


Pour love on troubled water

by teawater



Series: The Tail of Secrets [2]
Category: Onmyouji | The Yin-Yang Master (Movies)
Genre: Case Fic, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Mystery, Romance, Squabbling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:05:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3430505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teawater/pseuds/teawater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seimei isn't exactly an easygoing person, but Hiromasa isn't about to give up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta, General_Zargon.

The bleak winter landscape visible beneath a half-raised section of blinds was suddenly revived with a splash of thick, juicy yellow that moved around in short chaotic jolts. Hiromasa focused his wandering gaze enough to realize it was a male redstart. Apparently, the little bird had landed in his study by mistake.

Hiromasa sighed and stretched, trying to remember what he had been thinking about when his mind had gone astray. His movement startled the redstart, and it took off, the fluttering triangle of its tail and wings visible all the way to the garden wall. The wall was no obstacle, of course, and soon the bird was gone entirely.

“I wish I could do that,” Hiromasa mused.

He leaned back to stretch on the cushions and unfolded his legs to give them some well-earned rest from many hours of kneeling. For the better part of the day Hiromasa had been trying to write down the score for a tune he had composed a few days earlier. He had played it at the year’s end party, and the Chancelor enjoyed it so much, he asked for a score, so that his servants could play it for him whenever he wanted to hear it again.

Hiromasa had been incredibly proud of himself upon receiving such a praise, so he took up the task eagerly. However, it turned out to be much more difficult than he initially thought. Somehow, the tune didn't quite fit the notation. Whenever Hiromasa wrote down any part, he immediately realised that it was going to be seriously misinterpreted by the reader. He tried a few different approaches to capturing the spirit of music, but nothing worked.

“That is my problem, isn't it,” Hiromasa grumbled. “Written language is really not my thing.”

That thought immediately reminded him of a person who had written language at his full command.

“Perhaps I should go ask him for help,” he murmured wistfully, still gazing at the ceiling of his study. Then he chuckled. “I can just imagine the amount of scorn he will pour onto me for such a request.”

Hiromasa smiled tenderly, as if he found the notion of being showered with scorn pleasant, or even endearing.

“Well, I should go see him anyway,” he decided. “I must show him my mother's letter. And then we'll see, perhaps he'll be in a serious mood for a change.”

He strongly doubted that last part, but Minamoto no Hiromasa was an optimistic man.

 

As it was still daylight, he decided to take a walk down to Seimei's estate. At the beginning of the year Seimei was typically busy with forecasts, and most of them required good visibility, so Hiromasa preferred not to bother his lover during 'working hours'. On the other hand, there was no need to come back before the town gates were locked. During Seimei's so-called illness at the end of autumn, Hiromasa's acquaintances at court somehow got used to the idea of him spending days on end at the inhospitable onmyouji's house, so his staying overnight wouldn't stir the cauldron of gossip anymore.

As he approached his destination, he wondered whether Seimei would meet him in his human or his fox form. After the autumn events, the onmyouji took to turning more often, or at least did so in Hiromasa's presence. Hiromasa still didn't feel confident enough to ask his lover about some things. He was afraid to spook the miracle that was their relationship, for a miracle it was, and Hiromasa knew himself to be rather clumsy while handling those.

He checked that his mother's letter was still safely tucked between the layers of silk on his chest. Somehow he wasn't sure Seimei was going to believe him without this material proof. In his other hand he was carrying a sake bottle, which had also been sent by his mother from the Matsunoo shrine brewery. Hiromasa sent one last quiet prayer to the god Oyamakui, pleading that the gift help him through this talk, and then stepped through the gates, making the rimey grass under his boots rustle with frost.

The onmyouji wasn't at his usual place on the veranda, but as Hiromasa approached, he stepped out of the house to beckon him. He was in his human form, and  ― Hiromasa had to bite his lower lip to curb the excitement  ― that human form was loose-haired and clad in only two layers of simple white silk.

“Some types of forecasts require the caster to be naked,” Seimei explained, catching Hiromasa's appreciative look. “I started getting dressed, but then felt your presence on the bridge and decided not to bother.”

He gave a flirtatiously apologetic smile.

Well, Hiromasa thought,  at least that part of the evening should go well.

The truth was,  that part always went well. Even on days when Seimei was being particularly difficult, distrusting, busy or scornful, he had yet to refuse a sexual advance.

Guests arriving at the onmyouji’s house were always first invited into the light-blue reception room, rich and fresh in its decor. Landscapes of steep rocks and fishermen’s boats painted in diluted ink filled the milky screens, making a visitor feel like they were lost in a fog, their only guide being the host, whose bright features and white garments made him resemble a gorgeous sample of calligraphy.

Those guests who were in need of an exorcism or a forecast, though, were led into the next room, the purple study. It was located at the heart of the house, so no sunlight ever reached its glorious dark walls. Only the moderate illumination by the braziers brought out the glittering outlines of the four guardians of the city, painted in silver and gold.

This time, though, both rooms were in a horrible state of disorder, with all kinds of scrolls and charts covering almost every inch of the splendid artwork, and the floor cluttered with tools, brushes, ruined paper dolls and even an occasional pool of spilt ink.

“You’ve been working hard,” Hiromasa observed, smiling at the creative chaos.

“My study is in an even worse condition,” Seimei offered ruefully. “We’ll have to content ourselves with one of the guest bedrooms, I am afraid.”

“Sounds good,” Hiromasa smirked playfully and received quite a promising look in response.

He didn’t actually feel so happy about the location. Ever since Seimei’s curse was lifted, Hiromasa had been unofficially banned from his bedroom. They’d made love in almost every spot in the house, but Seimei’s bedroom stayed carefully off-limits. Not that Hiromasa was forbidden to enter, no, he could navigate the room with his eyes closed. But when the carnal pleasures were over for the night, Seimei unfailingly got up and snuck out to hide in his lair, leaving Hiromasa alone in the faceless empty guest bedroom.

“Your uncle is a generous man,” Seimei remarked as Hiromasa settled the wine bottle on the floor.

“Oh, this isn’t from my uncle,” Hiromasa hastened to correct. “It’s from my mother.”

Seimei gestured to the shikigami in attendance to bring refreshments and sauntered down in a pool of white silk, the fabrics sending a wave of warm air Hiromasa’s way.

“Your mother?” Seimei prompted as Hiromasa was apparently lost in contemplation.

“Ah, yes, she, er…” Hiromasa shook his head slightly, trying to focus. “She has gone to Arashiyama for a visit to the Matsunoo shrine, and as you know, they have a famous brewery there.”

“Indeed, they put the blessed spring water to a good use,” Seimei purred.

“Yes. Well,” Hiromasa continued, thinking that since he was already on the topic of his mother, he could as well get it over with. “The thing is,” he cleared his throat and sat straighter to look directly at Seimei, who was eyeing him expectantly. “The thing is, she invited us to join her at the hotspring there. You know, for a few days…”

Seimei raised an eyebrow, otherwise keeping his expression pointedly neutral.

“Is she being haunted by a hotspring ghost or just afraid of a Kappa in her bath?”

“Of course it’s nothing like that!” Hiromasa bristled. “She just… erm, she just would like to meet you, that’s all.”

“Meet me,” Seimei echoed, and Hiromasa felt a headache beginning to set in.

The onmyouji stood up and made a few steps around Hiromasa, the gentle footsteps of his bare feet soundless on the floor. He paused at a spot where Hiromasa had to twist his neck to see him.

“Please forgive my suspicious nature, but it does seem odd, doesn’t it, that your mother used to take no interest in me whatsoever throughout our acquaintance, yet as soon as our relationship turned physical, she suddenly demands me on the mat.”

Hiromasa considered getting up and facing him, but decided to stay sitting and thus unthreatening. He supposed Seimei was worried about the upcoming meeting, so, perhaps, by staying calm Hiromasa could put him at ease.

“She isn’t demanding you anywhere,” he said, looking at the opposite wall. “She just thought we could both enjoy getting away from the capital. And as for the timing, there is nothing suspicious there. I told her, of course.”

Seimei swiftly came back to stand in front of Hiromasa, hovering over him.

“You told her what?”

“That we are now lovers,” Hiromasa clarified, looking up defiantly.

Seimei looked at him for a long moment.

“Why would you do such a thing?” he asked quietly.

“She is my mother, she deserves to know about important changes in my life. This one was about as important as it gets.”

“Fine,” Seimei replied thoughtfully, taking a few steps back. “What else did you tell her?”

Hiromasa shrugged. 

“Just that.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t feel it necessary to spill all the details of what it’s like to shag a fox’s by-blow?”

Hiromasa felt infinitely tired. Why couldn’t Seimei just let go of this whole matter?

“Seimei, your parentage is not my secret to share.”

“But she is your mother, she deserves to know who you are sharing your bed with, doesn’t she?”

“If you believe that, why don’t you tell her yourself? You will have a perfect opportunity if we go to Arashiyama.”

“Or else?” Seimei prompted, looking almost as if he enjoyed the altercation.

“Or else she will stay ignorant of my ill fate till the end of her days,” Hiromasa snapped. “Here”, he buried his hand in his robes and retrieved the letter, crumpling it slightly in his haste. “Familiarise yourself with the invitation.”

For a moment Seimei looked like he was going to refuse and stomp away in a huff, like he usually did in his fox form when annoyed, but eventually his human upbringing gained the upper hand and he snatched the paper irritatedly from Hiromasa. As his eyes followed the neat calligraphy, Hiromasa mentally recited the relevant part of the letter, trying to predict his lover’s reaction.

“... As I mentioned before, the hotspring is nearly deserted at the moment, and the inn has been greatly improved since my previous stay last year, although even then it was quite an delightful place.

“So today as I was on my daily promenade towards the Matsunoo shrine, basking in the tranquility of the scenery, it occurred to me that not I, but you should be enjoying it. Especially now that you finally have someone to share it with.

“I am going to stay here for another two or three days, depending on the snowfall, but if you were to arrive here before I leave, it could be a convenient opportunity for me to meet your beloved without exciting any talebearers. Certainly, if he would rather not, I would not insist; however I do believe that any person as important to you as you have described should be welcomed into the family.

“The wine I am sending along should attest to my acceptance of your choice.”

Seimei reread the letter several times before looking away from it, as if mentally admonishing himself for the intrusion.

“This wasn’t intended for my eyes,” he said, confirming Hiromasa’s interpretation of his expression.

“No,” Hiromasa agreed. “But there is nothing there she wouldn’t say to your face, and she put it better than I ever could.”

Seimei still looked uneasy, but gave the letter another look.

“She is certainly eloquent,” he remarked.

“Yes,” Hiromasa nodded. “I never got that from her; I’m more like my father. They say he was a man of action, not speech.”

Hiromasa felt a scrutinizing look on himself.

“You don’t remember him?” Seimei asked.

“Vaguely,” Hiromasa waved his hand.

There was a pause in which the shikigami brought them their evening rice and a small lacquered table with three kinds of fish in vinegar sauce with different seasonings, as well as pickled plums and dried persimmon, apricots and oranges. The food looked a bit festive for no apparent reason and was also served for the two of them on one table, suggesting intimacy. Hiromasa looked up questioningly.

As if suddenly pushed into action, Seimei crossed the distance between them and landed by Hiromasa’s side, hiding his face in the crook of the other man’s neck. Hiromasa stifled a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around Seimei’s tense body.

“Are you all right, love?” he asked quietly into Seimei’s hair.

“Yes,” Seimei said and chuckled. “It’s just like me, to arrange a romantic date and then ruin it with my terrible behaviour.”

“You haven’t ruined anything yet,” Hiromasa assured.

“Only because you are a man of infinite patience,” Seimei countered, but without any bite to his tone. He pulled back and sat down, brushing thighs with Hiromasa, then offered him the letter, now even more crumpled after their spontaneous embrace.

“Keep it,” Hiromasa smiled.

“Your mother wrote it for you,” Seimei insisted.

“Precisely. And if I kept every letter she’s ever written for me, I wouldn’t have enough space in my room to roll out a bed. So keep it. After all, you already have a chest of my stuff here.”

Seimei gave the letter one last look, smoothed it out where it was crumpled and got up again to tuck it away somewhere in the mess of his study. Coming back to the table, he bent down and gave Hiromasa a long and suggestive kiss, although Hiromasa knew not to be taken in: nothing would happen before they’d eaten.

The food was even more delicious than it looked, Seimei seemed to get into a really good mood, and Hiromasa relaxed, allowing himself to simply enjoy the evening. He distantly recalled there was something else he wanted to talk to Seimei about, but it all seemed so unimportant and certainly could wait till morning.

The shikigami brought the warmed wine and filled their cups. Seimei raised his and nodded to Hiromasa, who smiled and mirrored him, then taking the cup to his lips.

He nearly choked on the disgusting liquid in his cup.

When he could breathe again, he saw Seimei across from him eyeing his cup with a worryingly sour expression. 

“Now that’s subtle,” he murmured.

Hiromasa gasped as the full horror of the situation struck home.

“Seimei… It isn’t… She couldn’t… There must’ve been some mistake!”

Seimei picked up the bottle and turned it around.

“This  is the bottle you’ve brought,” he commented. “And it has the seal of Matsunoo brewery on it.”

Hiromasa closed his eyes, feeling his world crushing down around him. He was almost on the verge of tears. Damn that wine! He should’ve tried it before bringing it here. His mother should’ve never sent it!

“Seimei, I swear to you… It can’t be that she meant… She must’ve been tricked at the brewery! There is no way, she couldn’t have done such a thing. Look, I know my mother…”

The onmyouji silenced him with a stare, then sniffed at his cup again.

“I believe we should go to Arashiyama first thing tomorrow morning,” he said suddenly. “If this is indeed the product of Matsunoo brewery, then something very wrong must be going on there.”

Hiromasa blinked and allowed himself to take the next breath.

“Right,” he mumbled. “Sure, of course, let’s go.”

Seimei gave him another piercing look, then smiled, and then doubled over with laughter.

Hiromasa put down his cup and rubbed his face, making sure to get rid of the stunned expression he must have been wearing.

“Ah, you should’ve seen your face!” Seimei moaned, pressing his face into a cushion, as if it could make his behaviour any less inappropriate. Although Hiromasa didn’t mind it when Seimei laughed at him. This was so much better than Seimei being angry, insulted or, worst of all, politely blank. As it was, Hiromasa chuckled and shook his head at his lover’s antics.

“You had me seriously scared there, you know,” he decided to reproach him.

Seimei rolled onto his back, chest heaving, and wiped his watering eyes with his sleeve.

“Please forgive me. I realise your reaction is a testament to the way I’ve been behaving lately. I will try to improve.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hiromasa commented, crawling around the table to sit by Seimei’s side. The onmyouji looked so unbearably attractive, sprawled on the floor like a giant night moth caught by the first sunlight. Hiromasa bent down to kiss him on the neck and then moved up to the jaw, cheek and lips and -

Seimei lifted his face away.

“Not with that taste in my mouth, I beg you. Let’s have something more disposing.”

Hiromasa went back to kiss his earlobe and then regretfully sat up, pulling Seimei up by the shoulders.

But he needn’t have worried. Once they washed the meal down with some good wine, Seimei was the first to incite further intimacy. Hiromasa would have called it dutiful, if it weren’t so enjoyable. He could tell Seimei took great pleasure in even the lightest caress and offered himself completely for Hiromasa to do whatever he wanted to him. Hiromasa would have never called his lover’s behaviour forced, but there was something about it, something that had no place between two people in love.

And once again, as Hiromasa was drifting off afterwards, he felt Seimei slip out of the circle of his arms, heard the faint rustling of silks being pulled on loosely, the sliding door opening and closing. And Seimei was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, General_Zargon.
> 
>  
> 
> [The Mastunoo shrine](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/20/Shofuen_Matsuo-taisha_Kyoto_Japan07s3.jpg/800px-Shofuen_Matsuo-taisha_Kyoto_Japan07s3.jpg)

Hiromasa woke up in a sour mood, but he quickly remembered that they were about to set off to Arashiyama, and that cheered him up somewhat. If Seimei had agreed to meet his mother, then he must be at least somewhat serious about their relationship, Hiromasa thought.

He threw on a few robes without bothering to adjust them much and went to look for Seimei and breakfast. Seimei typically got up a bit earlier than him and lazied about in the light-blue room when the weather didn’t allow him to do so on the veranda.

However, when Hiromasa entered, he was surprised to see Seimei fully dressed, his hair neatly pulled up and hidden under a lacquered cap.

“Finally,” he said to Hiromasa instead of a greeting. “You don’t seem to be in a hurry to meet your own mother.”

“What’s the rush?” Hiromasa rubbed at his eye. “Or are you so worried about the Matsunoo brewery ruining a large batch of wine?”

“What I am worried about,” Seimei said uncharacteristically seriously, “is that whatever ruined the wine might develop a taste for people.”

Hiromasa gasped and frantically looked around, trying to figure out the fastest way to get dressed. Seimei stood up and put a hand on his arm.

“Come on, I’ll help you dress, but we’ll have to have our breakfast on the way.”

And so they did.

It was not a long ride. Seimei’s unusually quiet oxcart had trundled along the west road for only two hours when the Katsura river came into view on the left. Hiromasa suspected it would have taken them even less time on foot, as they were both accustomed to walking, but of course they couldn’t arrive at a hotspring like simple peasants, and eating in the oxcart was still a little more convenient than on foot.

The hotspring was a large, newly-built house, or even a group of houses connected with stairs and galleries climbing up the gently sloping mountain. To the side of the entrance there was a small shrine to the mountain god, equipped with a hand washing basin. Seimei jumped down from the cart, not waiting while his shikigami retainer provided them with a way for solemn descent, and headed straight for the basin.

Hiromasa followed suit and had to stifle an exasperated sigh at seeing his friend yet again being eccentric. Seimei had poured some water into his cupped hand and tasted it, sticking his tongue far out of his mouth, like he would in his fox form.

“Are you sure the god won’t mind?” Hiromasa asked dubiously.

Seimei threw the water from his hand into the shallow ditch that went around the basin and washed his hands properly.

“I don’t think he will,” he answered slowly, apparently lost in thought.

Hiromasa bent down to get a scoop for himself when their tete a tete was disturbed by a man, who must have been the owner of the hotspring inn. From the entrance, the view on the shrine was obstructed by an evergreen bush, so the man had to make a few steps down the stairs to see who had arrived at his gate. Taking in Seimei’s richly decorated oxcart and their expensive garments, the man gasped and ran all the way down, almost falling over on the slippery stairs.

“My lords! What a pleasure! Please forgive this humble man for not coming out to greet your lordships earlier, as the sound of the carriage was not heard inside the house!”

“Don’t worry about that,” Hiromasa assured him, always hating to see ordinary people excessively apologetic. “My friend here travels a lot and prefers his cart to be well-oiled.”

He was going to gesture towards Seimei, but the man had apparently decided to outdo himself today: instead of greeting the landlord, he busied himself rearranging things on the altar of the little shrine, brushing away dried petals of old flowers and turning the clay statuettes of the god to face in the right directions.

“He is an onmyouji,” Hiromasa offered with an embarrassed smile to the puzzled landlord.

“Things have been running smoothly here for many years,” the man informed with a slight frown. “I do hope your lordships have come here to enjoy some rest at the hotspring, and not on business…”

“Of course,” Hiromasa assured him cheerfully. “My mother has been staying here for a few days, and she invited us to share the pleasures of your establishment with her.”

“Ah!” the landlord’s face brightened. “Of course, of course, please, come in then. My people will see to your carriage and luggage.”

Seimei, finally satisfied with his job on the little shrine, stepped out and, turning to face the landlord, announced, “You’d better keep this shrine well tended. There is something going on in the area, and ignoring your god can easily bring trouble to your doorstep.”

“Certainly, my lord,” the man bowed deeply, although Hiromasa could see he was annoyed. “But this is just a small shrine. We have a bigger one inside, not to mention the Matsunoo shrine just a short walk from here. I don’t miss a single day of offering.”

Seimei inclined his head but didn’t answer, instead gesturing for Hiromasa to lead the way.

Fujiwara no Nizeko was sitting alone in the vast tea room of the inn, gazing calmly over the stunning river view that opened from the hotspring.

“Mother,” Hiromasa smiled, walking up to her and then kneeling a few paces away, bowing lightly.

“Ah, so you have decided to come,” lady Nizeko smiled back and immediately turned to look at the other man, who had entered just after Hiromasa and sat down humbly in the darker part of the room.

“Mother, this is Abe no Seimei, of whom I have told you so much,” Hiromasa introduced, his face shining with pride and joy.

“How nice of you, master Seimei, to join my son on this trip,” she said neutrally to the man who had his eyes trained on the bamboo mats.

“It is a great pleasure to meet you, lady Nizeko,” he said quietly and bowed his head, casting an even deeper shadow over his face.

Hiromasa secretly glanced between the two of them. It seemed that his mother was genuinely pleased, but then, he had known she would be. Seimei, however, was so uncomfortable, Hiromasa could almost feel tiny lightning bolts emanating from him, although his composure was perfect.

“Please, Hiromasa, send for some tea,” lady Nizeko suggested, turning to face her son again. “You must have risen at dawn to get here so early. I am sure some refreshments will be welcome.”

Hiromasa nodded and stepped out of the room to call a servant.

“Why did you have to arrive this early, though?” lady Nizeko continued, addressing her question to no one in particular. “Hiromasa seldom gets up before the hour of Dragon. Have you decided to convert him into an early bird, master Seimei?”

Seimei chanced a look at her. She looked a lot like Hiromasa, which made her face somewhat masculine, but not unbecomingly so. He could describe her as handsome or boyish. The lines around her eyes and mouth attested to easy and frequent smiles.

“No,” he said in response to her question. “I had some… business in the area, so…”

Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to mention the bad wine to her.

“When you say business, master Seimei, I start wondering if I should be getting worried,” she smiled broader, politely covering her mouth with a lovely silvery fan.

Seimei hesitated with his answer, but at that moment Hiromasa returned from his tea-fetching expedition.

“You should,” he said rather unceremoniously. “Now I must say they are pretty relaxed here, it took me all this time to find a single servant! Anyway, mother, I don’t suppose you actually tried any wine here?”

She lowered her fan, somewhat surprised.

“I am not in the habit of drinking wine, dear son. Why do you- Oh, please, don’t tell me it wasn’t good! This is supposed to be one of the finest breweries in the land!”

Her horrified face bore such a strong resemblance to Hiromasa’s the previous evening that Seimei had to hide his face behind his fan so as not to confuse her with an inappropriate smile.

“It was absolutely rotten,” Hiromasa said accusingly, looking down at her from his considerable height.

“Oh goodness, you two must have thought I am an evil little witch,” she gasped.

“What else could we have possibly thought?” Hiromasa said bitterly.

Seimei stared at him in dismay. This was very much unlike the Hiromasa he knew. Could it be that whatever was affecting the wine had found its way into Hiromasa’s heart?

The onmyouji was about to interrupt the brewing family row, when both mother and son suddenly burst out laughing, the lady hiding her face completely behind her sleeves.

Hiromasa turned to face his lover, who was quickly schooling his features into a neutral expression.

“You all right there?”

Seimei nodded.

“So, master Seimei, do you believe this problem to be in your department?” lady Nizeko turned to him once again.

“The water from the holy spring, which the Matsunoo brewery uses, is famous because the wine made with it never goes bad,” Seimei explained, pretending nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. “And if it has, then the spring is likely to have lost its wondrous qualities. This kind of thing typically happens as a result of neglect on behalf of the god in charge. Perhaps, some people have angered him, or it might be that he had to move away from this place. Anyhow, the matter requires looking into.”

“Typically happens…” Hiromasa’s mother echoed. “But of course, my son told me how knowledgeable you are in such matters. Perhaps you shouldn’t be explaining these things to a middlebrow like me, but instead go to the brewery right away?”

“Don’t worry, my lady,” Seimei put on one of his most endearing smiles. “Talking to you is time well spent.”

Lady Nizeko partially hid her face behind her fan and glanced at Hiromasa, her eyes communicating something that Seimei couldn’t help but interpret as approval. Hiromasa looked proud. It appeared that Seimei had passed the test.

That was when the tea was brought in by a girl who looked to be the landlord’s daughter. Seimei smelled at his cup curiously. All seemed fine. He tasted the tea and rolled it around in his mouth. Just like at the handwashing basin outside, the water was fine, but not special in any spiritual way.

“We need to go to the shrine,” he announced, standing up.

“But we’ve just…” Hiromasa started protesting, but gave up and put his cup down. “Excuse us, mother, apparently, this can’t wait.”

They bowed good-bye and walked out of the inn, Seimei setting a brisk pace towards the river.

“Seimei, love,” Hiromasa started carefully, and Seimei knew immediately that there was an admonishment to come. “Do you absolutely have to be this eccentric?”

“You dare call me eccentric?” the onmyouji glared at his lover, making him stumble over an ice-covered stone. “After that display with your mother? Since when are Minamoto sons so casual with their parents?”

Hiromasa had the decency to look uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I probably should have warned you. Mother and I have always been close. You see, since my father died when my sisters were just babies, I’ve always been the man in the house. It was a heavy blow for her. I tried to support her as best I could. The seclusion of married life was also difficult for her, she is a very outgoing person. So somehow we ended up becoming more like friends than mother and son. I know it’s strange, but really, Seimei, you are the last one to complain.” Hiromasa gave him a superior look.

“Like draws like?” Seimei arched an eyebrow.

“Precisely.”

“You’re getting better at this,” Seimei mused aloud after a few paces.

“At talking to you? I’d hope so. We do spend a lot of time doing it,” Hiromasa observed.

“You mean, instead of doing something else?” Seimei lowered his eyelids.

Hiromasa frowned. “Why, you don’t think that for me conversation with you is just a means to an end, do you?”

They were walking along the river bank, hidden in the folds of the landscape from any curious eyes in the town. Seimei eyed the expanse of the river briefly, but there were no boats or fishermen before the turn. So he stepped in Hiromasa’s way, startling the man somewhat, grabbed his collar and pulled him down into an ardent kiss.

Hiromasa was getting used to his lover’s antics. Back in the twelfth month he would have been shocked by such outrageous behaviour in public, but here was the first month, a new beginning, and so he stepped forward to press his body to Seimei’s and thus communicate his trust that Seimei knew what he was doing. He felt suddenly so warm on this chilly winter day, and Seimei’s mouth was so welcoming and so close, as Seimei himself had never been…

They broke up to gasp for air and then pressed their foreheads together, Hiromasa trying to remember where he was and where he was going.

“Come on,” Seimei said, sobering up. “We really need to hurry.”

“Of course,” Hiromasa agreed out of habit and started walking, unable to take his eyes off Seimei’s reddened lips. On one hand, he admired Seimei’s ability to will himself into concentration and ignore any tempting circumstances, such as an infatuated Hiromasa. On the other, though, it hurt a little to know that Seimei could so easily discard what they had together. But he didn’t dare voice it.

The bright-red gateway, signalising the shrine lying ahead, rose over them like a bold warrior, ready to defend its own. Across the gate, where the warrior’s chest would’ve been, a thick garland of lightning-shaped papers and willow branches was rustling in the wind. The willow leaves all brown and dry, it was obvious that the shrine servants hadn’t renewed it on the New Year’s day.

“So they knew then,” Seimei murmured, also looking up at the garland.

“Knew what?” Hiromasa asked, not really hoping to get an answer.

“Willow branches are better protection than any evergreen,” Seimei suddenly explained. “Normally they would be changed for something fresh, though, but it looks like the shrine dwellers preferred to stay messy, but protected. So they must have known trouble was coming.”

Seimei exhaled a deep sigh and stepped forward under the gateway, looking decidedly reluctant.

“Are you worried about what’s in there?” Hiromasa frowned, following him cautiously.

“Not really,” Seimei half-smirked with a bored expression.

“You look unsettled,” Hiromasa observed.

“I shouldn’t have done that at the river,” Seimei said, taking Hiromasa completely aback. “Now I can’t even bring myself to care about the whole water matter, I just want to bed you, but I can’t until we’ve dealt with this,” he raised his chin to indicate the temple.

“Ah, you  are human all right,” Hiromasa muttered under his breath, breaking into a grin.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Seimei heard, of course, and turned sharply to glare, but looked away quickly.

“You know, you had me a bit worried there,” Hiromasa decided to take his chances. “I mean, just stopping and walking off as if it didn’t matter to you at all…”

“Of course it matters,” Seimei bristled, and Hiromasa thought he was more annoyed with the necessity to state it that with the actual problem. “Anyway, talking about it now isn’t going to help, so get going, if you don’t mind. And stay behind me.”

Hiromasa caught himself before he said something about enjoying Seimei’s hind view, but decided he should allow the man some breathing space, unless he wanted to end up in the nearest bush.

“Oh and Hiromasa, can I ask you something?” Seimei said without turning.

“Sure.”

“Never wear that particular shade of cerulean when we are on business.”

Hiromasa opened his mouth to ask if that was inauspicious, but then realized it was about something else entirely. He smiled, cheeks warming.

“Got that. Sorry.”

Thinking about things that one really shouldn’t be thinking while entering a temple, he didn’t even notice how they got through the massive main gate and ended up in the garden. However, once there, all distracting thoughts were wiped out of his head by the view.

The garden was very uneven, with the ground bulging up here and there, as if a herd of tortoises fell asleep on its way to the Western Paradise. Here and there, on what would’ve been their shells and in between them, stood tall stones of no particular shape. They didn’t appear to represent any people or animals, but their quantity and human-like size immediately made one think he was looking at a moody crowd of people, like a gang of militant villagers, just waiting for one to make the wrong move.

“Whoa!” Hiromasa gasped.

“Indeed,” Seimei eyed the garden, which seemed darker than it should have at this time of day. “Come on, then.”

“Is it…” Hiromasa was a bit wary of passing through the standing stones.

“They are harmless,” Seimei informed quietly. “For now.”

At the hand-washing basin Seimei tasted the water again, like he did at the inn. But this time he sputtered and coughed, almost dropping the scoop, and then snatched the tip of a young pine’s branch and chewed on it industriously. He didn’t make any comment, and neither did Hiromasa. Instead, they went on, past the shrine itself, taking the path which led to the brewery.

As they were approaching the doors, a middle-aged rotund priest stepped out and immediately started making signs for them to stop. Seimei, of course, kept walking, undeterred.

“Sorry, sorry,” the priest called, seeing that the visitor couldn’t understand the sign language. “We’re closed. Not selling, no wine.”

“And why is that?” Seimei drawled in his deep, velvety voice, that made Hiromasa instantly recall the incident at the river bank together with all the playful imagery he’d been mentally viewing since. He’d have to ask Seimei a favour too.

“A technical problem,” the priest informed, looking important. “Now, if you please…”

“And does that technical problem have anything to do with the taste of the water in your wells?” Seimei purred.

The priest looked sour.

“Gentlemen, I positively do not see how this could be any concern of yours. The wine is not available, that is all.”

“I am an onmyouji,” Seimei informed.

The priest snorted.

“We have a whole temple of gods’ servants here, do you really think we’d need your expertise, master of divination?”

He said the last word with such contempt that it seemed he didn’t believe the art had any value to it. Hiromasa raised an eyebrow and looked at Seimei, wondering if he should step in and apply some rank pressure.

Seimei looked like he was having a mental debate, and in a moment he sighed in defeat to himself.

“Seriously, Kouji?”

The priest turned to face him, pale eyes bulging out like those of a fish on a hook.

“Master Seimei!? But-”

“I’m glad to know you haven’t lost your memory,” Seimei said coldly.

Kouji gaped at him and then for the first time looked at Hiromasa.

“And this one is…”

“This one is a nobleman from the capital who outranks you by a few,” Seimei informed flatly. “It would really suit you to treat people nicely even before you know who they are.”

The priest clapped a hand to his still-gaping mouth and started talking in an excited whisper. “Master Seimei, I sincerely apologise, you see, things haven’t been going well lately and I was having a difficult time, but it’s so kind of you to come here, and now of all times! So, why don’t we go to the main temple? It’s empty now. I will show you around…”

At that he glanced over his shoulder and moved as if to start going away from the brewery.

“The high priest won’t be happy to see me, will he,” Seimei deciphered, turning and picking up the pace.

“He is a great person, but a bit proud,” Kouji confessed, and Hiromasa had to stifle a comment about pots and kettles. “Won’t have this matter resolved by a stranger.”

The temple was great and beautifully decorated, but as soon as they entered, Hiromasa couldn’t help cringing from the sweet rotting stench heavy in the air.

“So Kouji,” Seimei folded his arms on his chest like a strict teacher. “What’s been happening here?”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t know much. No one does,” Kouji said worriedly. “But a week ago the water in the sacred spring just turned disgusting, like this. And we don’t use it for everything, of course, there are other springs nearby, so we only noticed after the customers started complaining.”

“Do you use the sacred spring water in the handwashing basins?” Seimei asked.

“No,” Kouji sighed. “But that turned bad yesterday as well, together with a few other springs in the area.”

“So the water is already bad where it comes out of the ground?” Hiromasa asked, making Kouji jump a little. Apparently, the man had thought he was mute.

“Exactly, and more and more springs are getting polluted every day. No one knows what to do. We’ve been praying and praying, but frankly, it seems that the god simply isn’t there.”

“That would be one explanation,” Seimei drawled.

As Kouji didn’t seem to have anything to add, Seimei stepped away and went to look at the main altar.

“Is master an onmyouji too?” the priest asked Hiromasa politely.

“Oh no, no,” Hiromasa smiled. “We just… usually investigate things together.”

Hiromasa didn’t want to say they were friends because Seimei was still in earshot, and saying they were friends was a painful lie, but on the other hand, he wasn’t sure if Kouji was supposed to know what they really were.

“Ah,” the priest nodded, still eyeing Hiromasa suspiciously. “And, pardon me, may I enquire after master’s age?”

Hiromasa blinked.

“My age? Twenty-three.”

“Oh, good, good,” Kouji exhaled in relief. “You see,” he swtiched to a whisper, “last time I met master Seimei  I was twenty-three, and that was about twenty years ago, but…”

Hiromasa smirked, understanding.

“Kouji, I can still hear you,” Seimei called from the altar. “Tell me,” he added as the priest jumped and fell silent. “Why are there so many offerings of red beans here?”

“Lord Oyamakui-kami prefers them,” Kouji explained, trotting towards the altar.

“Has he always?” Seimei questioned further.

The priest appeared thoughtful for a moment.

“Well, I don’t know if he’d always preferred them, but he started demanding them about a month ago.”

“Demanding?” Hiromasa echoed, his vivid imagination immediately drawing a god in a full courtly outfit sitting solemnly at his lacquered lunch table and banging a fist with chopsticks clutched in it, yelling for red beans to be offered to him. Seimei must have caught the tail of the image in Hiromasa’s eyes and turned away with a smirk.

“Well, things started happening on the grounds if there were no red beans in the offerings,” Kouji explained. “For example, a piece of the wall crumbled, or one day all of the miko’s garments disappeared right in the middle of a ritual dance…”

“And you thought it was Oyamakui-kami’s doing?” Seimei sounded somewhat incredulous.

“Well, we did think it was some mischievous demon causing the trouble at first,” Kouji defended his fellows, “and we tried exorcising it a few times. But it only got worse. And then we discovered that if there were red beans among the offerings, then nothing happened. So we just made sure there were some all the time, and had no more trouble.”

“Until now,” Seimei pointed out.

“Oh, you think these things are connected?” Kouji asked, shocked.

Hiromasa generally didn’t judge people by their intelligence, himself being not the sharpest knife in the drawer, especially in the drawer that also contained Seimei, but even to him it would’ve been obvious that such events must be related somehow. Thankfully, though, Seimei decided not to comment on Kouji’s or the other temple folk’s intelligence and instead asked, “What other kinds of trouble happened if there were no red beans?”

The priest thought for a moment.

“I’d say, mostly, people got lost.”

“As in went missing?” Hiromasa gasped.

“No, just lost for a while on the grounds. Or by the river.”

“Have you been a victim of that?” Seimei inquired.

“Oh yes, four times, I think. Once at the river, that was tough. I walked and walked, I was so tired!”

Hiromasa imagined the plump man walking up and down the steep banks for hours and thought it must have really exhausted him.

“And do you remember how you got lost?” Seimei pressed on.

“There wasn’t anything special really. I went to negotiate the price of deliveries with a newcomer fisherman, and then on the way back I… I think I heard something and turned to check, and somehow I lost my way. Even though it’s stupid, I know the place so well and it’s not even that big… But then, everyone got lost in places like that, so we knew it must be a curse of sorts.”

“You heard something,” Seimei steered back to the topic. “What was it?”

Kouji furrowed his forehead, which had so few wrinkles, Hiromasa guessed the man wasn’t used to straining his mind.

“I don’t really remember… Something I disliked. I think it was a child singing something inappropriate. I wanted to admonish him. Dear me, I really don’t remember any more.”

“Have you heard anything strange here after that?” Seimei asked.

“Heard… Oh well, perhaps, not heard, but… Have you noticed those stones in the garden?” he turned to whispering again.

“Hard to miss,” Seimei scowled. “Are they acting out?”

“They don’t seem to be doing anything really, but they have become somewhat creepy…”

“Have they been here long?” Hiromasa asked, also lowering his voice.

“Yes, of course, they symbolize minor local deities. But lately… Some of us think they are coming closer.”

“You mean they are walking?” Hiromasa shuddered at the thought.

“Not exactly walking,” Kouji whispered with a true gossip-monger’s glint in the eye. “They are just closer every day. No one saw them move, but every morning they appear in a new position, you know. And at night there is this rattling sound, too.”

“Rattling?” it was the turn for Seimei’s eyes to light up.

“Rattling or gurgling, don’t know how to describe it. We think it’s them talking to each other. No one dares to approach them at night, in fact, we’re afraid to poke outside at all.”

“And you haven’t called anyone to help you because?..” Seimei prompted.

“Told you, the head priest…”

At that moment a sliding door at the far end of the hall opened and an older man stepped through.

“Kouji! What are you doing here? And who are these?”

“Just some visitors, God master, I was explaining to them that we are closed.”

“Explain faster, I need you in the brewery,” the high priest ordered and went away.

“It’s time for us to go,” Seimei summarised. “Thank you, Kouji, you were very helpful. Make sure to keep it up.”

“Of course, master Seimei, I’ll inform you immediately of any new developments.”

“Good. We’re staying at the hotspring. See you then.”

Kouji saw them out looking like a man who had finally found hope in a world of endless fear.

“That high priest must be keeping them really well-disciplined,” Hiromasa remarked. “If they are so terrified, but still obeying…”

“Kouji tends to dramatize things,” Seimei waved him off. “Let’s have a look at the stones before we go.”

Despite Seimei’s calmness, Hiromasa didn’t like the idea of approaching the boulders at all, but he wasn’t going to appear wimpish before Seimei.

Upon closer inspection, the stones seemed disgustingly alive. Seimei touched one, which almost made Hiromasa sick, and then chanted a bit over it, but nothing happened. Hiromasa got his will together and stepped towards another one, carefully examining the dried grass and moss around it. There was a short trench in the ground, stretching from the stone in the direction of the outer wall.

“Seimei,” he called quietly. “I think they are right.”

“Yes, it appears, the stones have moved indeed,” Seimei responded also in a low voice. “Let’s go, I think we got everything we could here.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, General_Zargon.
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> [This is what a boat ride on Katsura river in winter looks like](http://japan-rn.com/p/public/tour_en/arasiyama%20fuyu.jpg)
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> There's a rated scene in this chapter.

Hiromasa felt considerably better when they finally left the temple grounds and descended again to the edge of the river. There wasn’t much snow that year, but the frost covered all vegetation on the steep, almost vertical wall of the mountain on the other side, and the view was quite awe-inspiring.

“Have you got any ideas about this whole matter?” Hiromasa asked, looking up and away to where the top of the mountain melted into the clouded sky.

“Hiromasa, when you make that kind of face, I have lots of ideas, but none of them have anything to do with gods”, Seimei grumbled.

“Speaking of which!” Hiromasa whirled around. “Do you absolutely have to use your sexiest voice with any random stranger, especially when I’m already… in a state?”

Seimei raised both eyebrows and smiled in a pleasantly surprised way.

“Oh, so it was revenge, wasn’t it?” Hiromasa guessed.

“Not really,” Seimei shrugged. “Sorry. I remember you have a thing for my voice, but it is hard to keep it in mind all the time. Besides, Kouji isn’t any random stranger.”

“Who is he then?” Hiromasa calmed down somewhat, relieved that Seimei hadn’t been teasing him.

“He used to be a secretary for one Minister of the Right a while ago. I had him spy for me for a few years.”

“Really, Seimei…”

“Oh, he was happy to do so, I assure you. The man was born for this job. You should’ve seen his eyes light up at every new task. Unfortunately, said Minister fell out of favour and ended his days quite sadly, so I got Kouji a nice place in here in appreciation for his devotion. As you see, he’s thriving.”

“Do you have people spying for you now?” Hiromasa was still uncomfortable.

“My dear, with you telling me every single bit of gossip almost every day, even if I don’t really want to know them, why would I bother?”

Hiromasa tried boring a hole in Seimei’s hunting costume, but the onmyouji was admiring the river view.

“You won’t answer, will you?” Hiromasa muttered.

“See those boats?” Seimei confirmed his suspicions. But there was no helping the matter, so Hiromasa decided to let it go.

“Yes. Do you want to fetch a ride?”

“Why not? We have all afternoon.”

“But aren’t we supposed to keep investigating?” Hiromasa frowned.

“I don’t think there is anything left to do today. We can as well enjoy the hotspring before it, too, is polluted.”

“And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow we’ll have to go to the top of the mountain and see for ourselves how the old god is doing.”

Hiromasa gaped incredulously, but Seimei was already walking towards the waterfront. He paused on the way, bent down and picked up a stone. As Hiromasa caught up with him, he saw Seimei take a deep breath, close his eyes and whisper something to the tips of his fingers. The stone in his hand floated up and a little away, and in a moment there was a young commoner standing before them. He was sturdy and somewhat square-built. He bowed to the both of them and stepped aside allowing them to pass, then followed them to the river.

“What was that for?” Hiromasa asked in an annoyed whisper. He was used to shikigami, of course, but he really didn’t see why they’d need one on a boat-ride.

“Are you going to row?” Seimei smirked.

“No, but there are boatsmen,” Hiromasa indicated the people puttering about the boats.

“Are you going to shag me under the nose of a boatsman?” Seimei smirked wider at Hiromasa’s dismay.

“But- But-” Hiromasa looked over his shoulder at the brawny man walking behind them.

“It’s a stone, Hiromasa.”

“We could go straight to the inn,” Hiromasa pointed out.

“We could,” Seimei said in a suddenly dangerous voice, “if you were wearing something else.”

“Really, Seimei, it’s just a robe!”

“I’ll give you a mirror for your birthday.”

“I have some, thank you very much. But if I got so turned on every time you look gorgeous-”

“Don’t you?”

“Well, considering you look gorgeous _all the time-_ ”

“Hush, we are there.”

After a brief negotiation, Seimei secured them a large boat, which could hold up to twenty people and had a roof with roll-up screens around the perimeter. Hiromasa completely concentrated on not blushing, although the idea of these nice simple people finding out what they needed the boat for was so sickening, it curbed a lot of his excitement. However, once they were on board, another telltale look from Seimei restored it to its heights.

“It won’t keel over, what do you think?” Hiromasa questioned as they were making themselves comfortable on the benches, waiting to get far enough.

“That depends on your enthusiasm,” Seimei chuckled.

“You’ll be on top,” Hiromasa decided vengefully.

“Now that’s really dangerous, you know how I get carried away.”

Hiromasa knew all too well and the memory made the edges of his vision darken. He slipped a hand to the inner side of Seimei’s thigh.

“Wait,” his lover giggled, unfastening the ropes that were holding up the screens behind their backs. Hiromasa switched back to reason and undid the screen separating them from their stone boatsman. Then he slipped down from the bench and pulled off a few layers of his winter robes to cover the thankfully dry floor. It was wide enough for him to stretch out across the boat.

He caught Seimei’s foot, just as the man was bending away to adjust the corner of a screen, and pulled off his suede boot, then undid the laces on his pristine white Chinese sock. Then he kissed the top of the foot just above the toes, knowing that to be a ticklish spot. Seimei giggled again and sauntered down, pulling his foot away.

“What a place to start, and in winter no less,” he commented, straddling Hiromasa’a hips.

“It’s your own fault,” Hiromasa grinned. “Come on, get down here.”

Seimei leaned forward for a kiss that tasted of pine needles and long-neglected desire. As they broke up, the gauzy tails of Seimei’s cap got into Hiromasa’s face, which seemed extremely funny to the both of them, so now they were giggling together. Hiromasa pulled the offending headdress off Seimei and sent it flying over the bench.

“Hey, I’ll still need it later,” Seimei mocked.

“Alas,” Hiromasa chuckled. “If the world obeyed my will, you would never ever have to wear that damn thing!”

“Why, aren’t you the one for the etiquette?”

“I am the one for your hair,” Hiromasa’s voice was muffled as he buried his face in a handful of the scented, shiny mass.

Seimei bit him on the ear and wiggled his hips, reminding Hiromasa of the purpose for which they got there.

“I’m not feeling up to a long foreplay,” he warned.

“Don’t worry, neither am I,” Hiromasa let go of his hair and started working on the sash.

After a few minutes of struggling they finally could touch skin to skin, at least in places. The scent of Seimei’s body, as usual, made Hiromasa’s head swim. He ran a hand up and down his lover’s stomach, feeling him lean into the touch. Then Seimei pressed some fabric into his palm. Opening his eyes, he saw that it was Seimei’s sash.

“Hands,” Seimei commanded briefly, locking his fingers behind his back.

“Oh, let’s not-”

“Hiromasa, I’m supporting ten shikigami at the moment and I haven’t had lunch. I won’t be able to heal you.”

Hiromasa gulped down the question about the number of shikigami, especially when they had come here to deal with potentially dangerous things, and got to the task of tying Seimei’s hands, making sure to cover the fingertips in several layers, so that Seimei wouldn’t cut himself as the claws grew.

Seimei was lying on top of him, ragged breath loud in Hiromasa’s ear.

“Gag,” he instructed, wet lips ticklish.

“No way.”

“Sounds travels far on water.”

“I _said_ no way.”

Seimei pulled away a bit to look at him with a strange mixture of pity and joy. Then he rose up and leaned back a bit, shoulders uncomfortably twisted, to get into a more convenient position. Hiromasa’s blood caught fire. He could never get enough of seeing Seimei accepting him, especially like this, from above, like a deity coming down from heaven to take his soul, but instead ending up pleasuring him with a pleasure no mortal had a right to.

He exhaled with a low groan at the same time as Seimei whimpered, and they started moving, the boat rocking slightly around them. Hiromasa’s fading consciousness registered a drop of sweat sliding down Seimei’s chest in the narrow gap between the edges of his robes. He knew Seimei was about to grow fangs and plunge them into his lower lip, and the insane savagery of this almost made him lose control, but he held out because he knew he had to take care of his lover when he was vulnerable like this. He pulled Seimei down carefully, and held him, face to shoulder, gritting his teeth against the anticipation.

“Hiromasa. I-”

“Bite.”

“But I-”

“Just _bite_.”

And bite he did. Hiromasa arched up, hands rolling into fists, struggling hard not to make a noise, and when he was able to use his hands again, he reached in between their bodies, wrapped his fingers around Seimei and pulled. Just once was enough - Seimei choked out a sob, mewled and bit deeper, then Hiromasa felt warmth spreading on his stomach and let himself fall into the bliss.

They lay there breathing for a long time, Hiromasa gazing at the white mountain passing by on the unscreened side of the boat, Seimei’s warm weight pressing him into the hard floorboards.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

Seimei was silent for a while, then pressed a kiss to the middle of Hiromasa’s chest.

“This wasn’t the last time for today,” he informed matter-of-factly.

“Good, I was looking forward to the whole hotspring thing.”

“No doubt.”

Hiromasa reached down and undid the ties on Seimei’s hands, finding them unscratched to his satisfaction. Seimei rolled over with a light grunt, still clinging to Hiromasa’s side and placed a palm on his bare chest. Hiromasa allowed his fingers to sink into Seimei’s hair and roam there a bit, stroking and combing.

“Flea hunting again?” Seimei commented.

Hiromasa rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t like it, just say so.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

“You are upset,” Hiromasa observed in surprise.

“I hurt you again.”

“Oh, for gods’ sake, Seimei, when are you going to get over it?”

“Never.”

“But why? I don’t even mind!”

“Perhaps, it would be better if you did,” Seimei sat up and started adjusting his robes. “Perhaps, then you wouldn’t let me do it so often.”

“Seimei, let me make something very clear. I will never ever gag you. Just stop suggesting that.”

“Wild beasts should be muzzled, Hiromasa,” Seimei said stubbornly, trying to sort out his sash.

Hiromasa had to take in a deep breath and count to ten and then backwards before he could answer. This was the one turn of conversation that made him see red time after time.

“Better tell me why you need all the other nine shikigami,” he said finally.

“To keep the boat from overturning,” Seimei replied with a blank face.

Hiromasa glared at him. He knew it wasn’t true; he also knew if Seimei was answering like this, it meant he wouldn’t tell him the truth. He sat up and wrapped his arms around Seimei’s shoulders, pressing his forehead into Seimei’s nape. He felt his lover’s stiff back relax somewhat.

“For the future,” Seimei started saying and Hiromasa steeled himself for another blow of wicked horror, “perhaps we should agree that when we’re unprepared you should take me from behind.”

Well, it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared, but still.

“I don’t like taking you from behind.”

“Oh right,” Hiromasa could hear that Seimei was scowling, “you have to see my face, don’t you. To witness my downfall in its full glory.”

“What!?” Hiromasa snapped.

Seimei was silent for a long moment, and Hiromasa’s heart almost jumped out of his throat.

“Seimei, what do you mean!? What downfall, what are you talking about!?”

“N-nothing…”

“Nothing-”

“No, really, I promise you, I didn’t mean it, I just said something stupid. I’m sorry. Please, Hiromasa, just ignore it.”

Hiromasa sat back, ill at ease. Things like that didn’t just fall out of a person’s mouth if said person had never thought them. Was Seimei referring to the fact that they were both men? Could it be he was ashamed of his inclinations? Seimei never wanted to take, only to be taken, but what if that was also about not hurting other people? What if what he really wanted was something that Hiromasa couldn’t give him? A sudden thought chilled Hiromasa’s blood.

“Seimei… Is our relationship making you unhappy?”

Seimei, who was busy arranging his hair, dropped everything and twisted around with lightning speed, making the boat rock heavily from side to side.

“No!” he exclaimed, sincere shock evident on his face.

Hiromasa let out a long breath.

“Good. Good.”

They reached out at the same time and wrapped their arms around each other, holding onto one another for dear life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, General_Zargon )

The way back to the inn was difficult. There was so much he wanted to ask and to say, but he was afraid of Seimei’s reaction. Even if Seimei had assured him that there were no more secrets between them, he wasn’t so dumb as to think Seimei was completely honest. And to think of that, there must have been many more demons haunting Seimei’s past than he could possibly have told Hiromasa over the less than two months of their romantic involvement.

He chanced a glance at Seimei, who was walking alongside him, holding onto his sleeve. Hiromasa had tried offering his hand instead, but Seimei shook it off and clasped his fingers firmly on Hiromasa’s cerulean brocade. He looked thoughtful and distant. Hiromasa didn’t like that. He was worried about things Seimei might be thinking to himself, especially after what he’d said on the boat.  Whatever ideas were brewing in that perfect brow, they were probably not going to make Hiromasa’s life easier.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly, holding his breath.

“Futility of all things,” Seimei replied darkly.

His worst suspicions confirmed, Hiromasa decided not to continue the conversation, afraid of starting an argument. It wasn’t like he and Seimei often argued. In fact, they probably never argued, not about anything important, at least. But to Hiromasa it felt like they were constantly on the verge of a really huge and terrible row, after which they would never be able to collect the scattered shards of the feelings they shared.

He was afraid all the time, he realised. He was afraid of going to bed in the evening, waiting for Seimei to slip away. He was afraid of waking up in the morning to find Seimei in a foul mood. He was afraid of talking, because talking revealed horrors, and of not talking, because then the horrors stayed hidden and gnawed at you from inside. On days he didn’t see Seimei, he feared Seimei wouldn’t welcome him again, and when they had sex, he feared Seimei would be upset about something ridiculous, like that day. But most of all, he was terrified that Seimei would find out just how much it all upset Hiromasa, and call the whole thing off because relationships were supposed to make people happier.

“Hiromasa,” Seimei was staring him right in the face, and he hadn’t even noticed when he got there. “Why are you weeping?”

Hiromasa blinked and sniffed involuntarily, feeling his face with the other hand, not the one whose sleeve Seimei was holding. Although he wasn’t holding it anymore. But yes, indeed, Hiromasa’s cheeks were wet.

“I… I don’t know,” he frowned, trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t involve complaining to Seimei about Seimei. “I was just thinking… I don’t know how it happened…” He strained his memory, trying to recall an innocuous topic that could make him cry. “There was, er, a tune in my head…”

“You were composing?” Seimei clarified, looking a little less worried.

“Well, kind of, yes,” Hiromasa mumbled, hoping Seimei wouldn’t make him play the new tune any time soon: his head was completely empty.

“I thought you only cried when you played them,” Seimei shook his head, but stopped staring and resumed the walk, allowing Hiromasa to wipe his face in peace.

“In fact, there was something I wanted to ask your help with,” Hiromasa remembered. He didn’t really want to ask about it, but it was a certain change of subject, and he seriously needed to stay away from the topic of his tears.

“I’m listening,” Seimei glanced up at him with mild curiosity.

“Remember that tune I composed for the year’s end festival? The Chancellor wanted me to write it down, so his servants could play it for him. I’ve been trying for days, but it just doesn’t work with any notation I know!”

Seimei chuckled.

“I’m not surprised. I believe you’ve invented a few techniques. But how can I help you, short of making the Chancellor forget his request?”

Hiromasa rolled his eyes a little, then sighed.

“I don’t know. I just thought, perhaps you’d have some ideas. I can show you which places I’m having most problems with…”

“You don’t need an excuse to play your flute for me,” Seimei smiled. “But fine, please, I’ll listen. I doubt I can do anything to solve your problem, though.”

“That’s fine,” Hiromasa felt a little uncomfortable about consulting Seimei on a matter that was so far from his expertise, as if he were a sulky child complaining to his minder that there were no butterflies in winter. “It’s just that sometimes talking to you about things helps me get a better idea of them.”

“You’re always welcome,” Seimei said, looking a tiny little bit more cheerful than he had for the whole walk. Hiromasa’s fear subsided somewhat, but never truly went away.

 

The landlord informed them that lady Nizeko was having her afternoon nap, so they ordered lunch to the rooms. Or, as it was, to the room.

“Why have you only prepared one room for the two of us?” Seimei questioned the landlord, frowning.

“Please, forgive this humble man, but it’s a big room, and there are plenty of screens for your comfort,” the landlord not exactly answered.

“But why?” Seimei demanded to know.

“Well, you see, your lordships arrived without a prior arrangement, and at this time of year we don’t usually have many visitors, so my sons-in-law are making some repairs in the central building, and all the other rooms aren’t warm enough for the season… But I understand the lady will be leaving tomorrow, so it’s only a temporary inconvenience.”

Hiromasa saw that Seimei did not share the landlord’s philosophic view on the situation, and he realised it was a matter of decency and keeping gossip at bay, however, he rather liked the idea of Seimei not having any place to hide from him during the night. So he put a hand on Seimei’s elbow.

“Come on, it’s just one night. We’ll manage.”

“Hiromasa, to be honest, I have half a mind on returning to the capital, so bad the service is here!” Seimei exclaimed, glaring at the landlord, who was bent so low, Hiromasa could see his backside better than his head. “I think someone here has got used to all kinds of nobility staying here just for the view, and decided it is going to continue indefinitely!”

“Yes, I agree he is a boor, and I’m never staying here again. Can we have lunch now?” Hiromasa continued his pacifying attempts.

Seimei gave him a dirty look and then pushed past him into the room, without saying a word. At least, he didn’t close the door behind himself, Hiromasa thought.

“Go get us something really nice,” he instructed the landlord, who jumped up and scurried away, happy that one of the lords wasn’t as demanding.

Hiromasa entered the room, seeing that Seimei had already thrown himself on one of the sleeping mats and was lying on his side, facing the wall. Hiromasa smiled a little, thinking this time it was Seimei who was being childish, and sat down next to the mat, running a hand along Seimei’s shin.

“Did you put him up to that?” Seimei questioned, still peering at the wall.

“What!?” Hiromasa stared at the back of his head, trying, vainly, to figure out how this man’s mind worked.

Seimei sighed.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you.”

“Why did you even think that?” Hiromasa felt a little alarmed at how little trust his lover had in him.

“A nice opportunity to lock me up with yourself, like you always want.”

Saying this, Seimei flipped to lie on his back and was now piercing Hiromasa with an all-knowing look. Perhaps, he was expecting Hiromasa to feel ashamed, but this time he’d miscalculated.

“Like I always want,” Hiromasa repeated, and his nostrils flared. “So you’ve known the whole time that I wanted you to stay.”

Seimei didn’t deign to answer that. Really, how much more obvious could one be?

He was beginning to worry, though, because it seemed, Hiromasa was having a difficult time keeping his temper in check. Seimei felt mildly uncomfortable lying on his back before an angry Hiromasa. Not that he had any reason to be worried, rather out of habit. He was about to take a more advantageous position, but at that moment Hiromasa suddenly jumped up to tower over him, and Seimei instinctively put up his elbow and knee to protect himself from a potential attack.

Hiromasa’s eyes widened, he stepped back.

“I’ll sleep in one of the cold rooms,” he said quietly and stormed out.

Seimei barely had the time to scramble to his feet when the landlord appeared, carrying the tables with their afternoon rice. He looked about to apologize again, but Seimei felt he’d had enough of the man.

“Get out of my face,” he hissed and dashed out of the unfortunate room, trying to work out where Hiromasa might have gone to. He couldn’t hear any footsteps, so he decided to start the search from the courtyard.

He didn’t like what was going on with Hiromasa. The man had always been so open and relaxed around him, but lately he’d started closing up. And those tears earlier… Seimei knew Hiromasa had been as shocked as he had, to discover himself weeping, but he also knew Hiromasa had lied about the reason. Even if he was indeed composing, something must have made him think of a tune so sad it made him cry.

The fact that Hiromasa lied to him was disturbing enough, but it wasn’t the only thing. He knew Hiromasa stopped asking questions he wanted to ask. He stopped making comments he wanted to make. Even the previous day, when Hiromasa had invited him here, he looked like he was expecting disaster to strike any moment. Seimei had made fun of him, of course, but the man didn’t even have the presence of mind to complain.

Seimei realised he had been trying to ignore this whole development. But in his heart he knew it was his own fault. He knew he was a terrible lover, what with his temper and his talent for hurting people, not to mention his proclivity for inflicting actual physical damage. But Taizanfukun be his witness, he was trying! And yet it all seemed to be falling apart in his hands yet again, even with this, the kindest and most patient of people.

He had considered giving up altogether, but-

There was Hiromasa, way up the slope on which the inn was built, behind one of the outlying wings. He was standing on the ground, leaning on the railing of the gallery and looking at the sky, his face pale and dejected. Seimei slowed down, trying to figure out how to undo the damage he’d done, but he was spotted. Hiromasa turned his head, eyes trained on Seimei’s boots.

“You shouldn’t be missing lunch, you need your strength,” Hiromasa said evenly.

“Won’t you join me?” Seimei came a little closer.

“I’m not particularly hungry,” Hiromasa shrugged.

Seimei realised his lover was about to take root in this place. He didn’t know what he could say that wouldn’t be a lie or make things worse, so he opted for the proven technique: Hiromasa was rather keen on touch, he tended to rely on it more than he did on words, so, perhaps, this primal language could help. Seimei came close and laid a hand on Hiromasa’s stomach. Even through the fabrics he could feel the warmth emanating from his lover. Hiromasa was always so hot to the touch, his hands and feet always warm, so unlike Seimei’s own cool ones. Hiromasa had a presence about him that made an indentation in the fabric of the Universe, while Seimei himself glided down the stream of fate like a flower petal, unfelt and unnoticed.

Seimei pressed his cheek to Hiromasa’s chest and felt warm arms encircling him, hiding him from the mountain winds. He waited, but nothing else happened. Hiromasa was being gallant, but not forgiving. Seimei knew what he had to say. He knew it was time. He knew he’d made Hiromasa wait for too long. He knew he was causing pain. His lips brushed at the gorgeous brocade of the colour that made Hiromasa’s eyes so much deeper and lips so much redder, brushed in silence. He took a deep breath.

“I’ll stay tonight.”

“You don’t have to,” came the response immediately.

“I promise I will.”

“I understand, you need your privacy. That’s fine.”

“I want to stay,” Seimei insisted, putting the last scraps of his will into it. “Please, let me.”

He really wanted to say ‘please,  make me’, and he thought Hiromasa understood that. There was a pause, and then Hiromasa said, thoughtfully, “Thank you.” And the arms wrapped around him tighter.

They returned to their room to find it blissfully empty of the landlord. Seimei reckoned at least something good had to happen to keep the balance of the day. Although he had to admit the food was quite to his liking and the wine, apparently, came from an old batch.

“Will you play?” Seimei asked, not feeling he’d deserved to add ‘for me’.

Hiromasa emptied his cup and blinked sleepily.

“Sure.”

He didn’t look like he was in the mood, but he got up anyway and went to fetch some papers from his luggage, then took out his flute and blew out a random combination of sounds, probing his soul for a response. Apparently, it worked, because Hiromasa started a tune that Seimei recognised. He hadn’t attended the year’s end festival at the palace, but Hiromasa had come over to his house afterwards and played for him passionately, even though he had been tired.

Seimei closed his eyes and let the music wash over him, taking away all the guilt and uneasiness of the day. Suddenly, the flute faltered.

“You see, here is the first spot,” Hiromasa said energetically, crouching down to search through the papers. “See, if I write it like this, it’ll be played too slowly, and in the other case there will be a twist at the end, but there shouldn’t be.”

Seimei willed himself to concentrate on the notation. This wasn’t a concert, he was supposed to be helping. He stared blankly at the sheet in his hand. He could read music, of course, himself being able to play two instruments, but these scribbles just didn’t make sense. Hiromasa wrote everything down carefully, like he always did, only the signs on the paper had nothing at all in common with the magic that had just filled the air.

“I can see why you’re dissatisfied,” he said.

“It’s just all wrong,” Hiromasa made a helpless gesture. “It’s like trying to write down Semimaru-dono’s music, if I’m allowed the comparison. People only understand it when they hear it from someone who’s heard the real thing. But what’s the point of the notation then?”

Seimei chewed on his lower lip, still staring at the sheet. Hiromasa felt humbled by the blind monk, but from Seimei’s point of view, his musical genius was probably even greater, and trying to wedge the flowing love and sorrow, that was Hiromasa’s music, into the standard notation was a bit like trying to explain all of onmyoudou in a hundred characters. The result would remind the reader of the original vaguely, but that was that.

“Have you ever thought of creating your own notation?” Seimei wondered aloud.

Hiromasa stared at him.

“What would be the point of that? No one would be able to read it.”

“But like you said, this is not just your problem,” Seimei finally looked up from the paper. “A lot of great music is still passed only by ear because the existing ways of writing it down just aren’t good enough. Perhaps, if you could come up with something better, other people would also switch to using it. I know I would,” he smiled.

Hiromasa chuckled, but still looked unconvinced.

“I don’t have the slightest idea how one can just create a music notation. It’s like coming up with a new writing system. How do I even start? It’ll probably take me forever.”

Seimei shrugged.

“I wish I could provide a ready solution, but really, what you are trying to do is like trying to write Japanese words in Sanskrit.”

Hiromasa scowled a little.

“If Sanskrit is those strange linked symbols I saw in your scrolls, then you are probably right. Goodness, it was supposed to be an easy little task!”

Seimei lifted a hand and stroked Hiromasa’s cheek, making him cheer up instantly. It was still surprising for Seimei, how simple things could be with Hiromasa. Even the tiniest bit of attention always made the man so happy, as if he had never dared to hope for it.

“Play for me some more?” Seimei tilted his head childishly.

Hiromasa covered his hand with his own and kissed the palm.

“All right. And then we’ll take a bath.”

“Agreed,” Seimei smiled and leaned back, closing his eyes to enjoy the wonderful melody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wikipedia article on Hiromasa says, "In 966, by the order of Emperor Murakami, he compiled an imperial music anthology, the Shinsen gakubu (新撰楽譜?, also called Hakuga no Fue-fu meaning "Hiromasa's Flute Score"). The system of notation he developed is still used today."
> 
> This fanfic takes place earlier, of course. If Hiromasa's 23, then it must be year 941. But who knows when he actually got down to the task)))


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated scenes continue. And don't worry, the angst isn't there to stay)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, General_Zargon.

Bathtime didn’t quite live up to Seimei’s expectations. Although excited at first, Hiromasa managed to fall asleep almost as soon as they settled in the hot water. Apparently, the day’s adventures and worries had taken their toll. Seimei decided not to wake him, instead cuddling up to Hiromasa to secure him in place and spent an hour or so simply kissing the man’s shoulder. It was a strange thing to do, he reflected, but it had an unexpected therapeutic effect. He felt he trusted Hiromasa considerably more after that, and perhaps the coming night wouldn’t be such a disaster.

When it was time to get out, he even felt up to a challenge. Ignoring his racing heartbeat, he sat up in the water and pressed his lips to Hiromasa’s ear.

“Wake up, love,” he tried nervously. When nothing happened, he decided to try again. “Hiromasa, love, wake up.”

The word felt strange, stupid and embarrassing, and using it made him feel like he was an elderly commoner woman, but then, Hiromasa had used it to address him, and that didn’t sound inappropriate. He supposed it was because Hiromasa had meant it.

Seimei built up the courage to try again, but as he was stretching his neck towards Hiromasa’s ear, his elbow slipped off the wet border, and he slid back into water with a splash. Hiromasa jolted awake.

“Hm?” he asked, shaking his head.

“It’s time to get out before you’re cooked,” Seimei mocked, his voice never betraying what he had just been trying to say.

“Did I fall asleep?” Hiromasa gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Seimei! You should’ve woken me.”

“You’ll just have to make it up to me,” Seimei laughed and climbed out of the pool to wrap himself in some fresh robes.

“Don’t worry about that!” Hiromasa called after him. “I have plans for you tonight.”

Back in their sleeping quarters, Seimei rummaged in his traveling chest, pushing aside a few robes and some dried herbs, and finally extracted a stationery box and a stack of pre-cut paper cards.

“Are you going to make charms now?” Hiromasa sounded disappointed.

“It won’t take long,” Seimei assured him. “Besides, you will be the first one to benefit from these particular charms.”

“What are they for?” Hiromasa eyed the fat stack dubiously.

“Stopping sound,” Seimei said, turning to catch the expression on Hiromasa’s face change. He was rewarded with an appreciative look.

Seimei turned back to his task and dipped the brush in the ink.

“So you’ll be vocal for me tonight,” Hiromasa breathed onto his neck.

“Let me concentrate,” Seimei chuckled and started drawing the necessary symbols on the top card. Once he was done with it, he put down the brush and smoothed the paper with two fingers, casting a short spell onto it. Then he took the remaining liquid ink in the dish and poured it on top of the stack. Instead of pooling on the top paper, the ink sank through, leaving an impression of the symbols on each card in the stack.

“Here we go,” Seimei leafed through the stack, making sure the cards didn’t stick together.

“That’s handy,” Hiromasa observed, watching Seimei get up and send the cards flying all around the room, making three continuous circles across the walls, the floor and the ceiling.

“Couldn’t you do that on the boat?” Hiromasa wondered, licking his lips in a way that made Seimei feel hot and cold at the same moment.

“Where would I attach them to? Water? Besides, I didn’t-”

“Are you done?” Hiromasa demanded, nodding at the chain of cards.

“Yes,” Seimei frowned at the harsh tone.

Instead of an explanation, he felt his robe being all but ripped off his shoulders, and the next moment he was pinned under Hiromasa on the mat, his mouth invaded by an eager tongue. The writing brush rolled across the floor for an incredibly long time, until it finally hit the opposite wall, and at the same moment Seimei felt himself being oiled.

He was still relaxed and acceptant from their afternoon exercises, but at this rate he was going to hurt Hiromasa more, and the situation with his powers hadn’t changed much. He tried to protest, to remind his lover that sex couldn’t be a spontaneous affair for him, and now that they had access to all kinds of conveniences, there wasn’t any excuse for forfeiting occupational safety.

However, he found his mouth otherwise engaged, and after Hiromasa’s fingers were replaced by his cock, Seimei realised he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. This tall and strong man leaning over him, doing whatever he wanted to him, surely he was sufficiently in control of the situation that Seimei didn’t have to worry…

After that he had no more opportunity for thinking, only for gasping and mewling and arching into the touch, for kissing madly and for wishing he could become permeable so that the other man could pass right through his skin and take up residence in there.

When his senses started returning to him in the afterglow, he found Hiromasa lazily stretching at his side, stroking Seimei’s fading erection and drawing patterns on his stomach in a way that felt exciting even in his present state.

“That was intense,” Seimei managed in a hoarse voice. It seemed that the sound-proofing precaution had been very much in time.

“Yes,” Hiromasa kissed him on the cheek and brushed his lips at his eyelids. “It’s your wet lashes.”

“Lashes?” Seimei repeated sleepily.

“Eyelashes,” Hiromasa clarified in a content whisper. “When they are wet, they stick together in little triangles. It drives me insane.”

Seimei chuckled at the silliness of it and buried his face in the crook of Hiromasa’s neck, only to be reminded of the bite he’d left there earlier. However a quick inspection showed that no new injuries were added. He looked at Hiromasa questioningly.

“I took you by surprise,” Hiromasa grinned. “You didn’t have time for all that. The fangs barely even showed.”

“That’s good news… I think,” Seimei offered, puzzled.

“Shall we consolidate the progress?”

“Absolutely,” Seimei smiled and closed his eyes, allowing the focus of his attention to shift from sight to touch. He was tired, it had been a long day. If it were up to him, he’d go to bed now. But he couldn’t disappoint Hiromasa, could he? This was why Hiromasa tolerated all the other aspects of their relationship. This was what he came for. This was why he forgave Seimei’s failures time after time. Refusal was out of question.

So he gathered his remaining strength and turned to suck on Hiromasa’s throat, trying to stay awake. Luckily, Hiromasa never failed to excite him. The man always seemed to know the exact spot to caress, the right noise to make, and the skin on his chest flushed just the way Seimei appreciated the most. After all the love they’d made, Hiromasa still turned the loveliest shade of pink whenever they got down to business.

“How can you enjoy something that is embarrassing for you?” Seimei mumbled, knowing the answer, and knowing that the answer would make him hard in a heartbeat.

“Everything you do to me is exciting, even shame.”

Seimei moaned and sobbed, then wrapped his legs around Hiromasa, positioning himself for being entered for the third time this day. Hiromasa didn’t make him wait, pushing in forcefully.

“You are mine,” he hissed with the first thrust, and Seimei gasped with pleasure and shock, his over-exerted senses waking up at the familiar contact.

“I…”

“Mine.”

Seimei whimpered, lost between the tactile pleasure and the fear that word was sending through him.

“I’m not ready…”

“You’re mine forever. And have always been.”

The words slashed right through his chest like a spell, and he cried out, half expecting Hiromasa to bite into his defenceless heart. Instead, his chest started filling up with warmth, which spread throughout his body, thawing the frost that had been sitting there for as long as he could remember. It frightened him, so he clung to the person who was steadily bringing him to ecstasy, the one who was scaring him, but also, mysteriously, the one who helped him face that fear and not give in.

“My Seimei!”

“Yes!” Seimei half-laughed, half-sobbed, and then the warmth was unbearable, boiling in his stomach and scorching his heart, but he couldn’t let go, instead he pressed into it, lasting it out until he’d spilt it all.

He thought Hiromasa was saying something, but as soon as the convulsions subsided, darkness engulfed him and plunged him into the abyss of dreamless sleep.

 

He woke up from an overwhelming sense of suffocation. Trying hard to stay still, he carefully took in his surroundings. His body was wrapped in some kind of restraints. Something was coiled around him, keeping him in place. It was warm and slightly pulsating, which, as experience told him, must have meant it was smart.

Drenched in cold sweat, head fuzzy from sleep, he began trying to slip through the coils. He managed to crawl a few inches up, pulling his upper arm loose, and was balancing on his elbow and toes, hair blocking his vision almost completely, when the coils tightened spasmodically, squeezing his chest and drawing him up to the main body.

Almost fainting with terror, already sensing the gaping hole of the monster’s mouth, filled with sharp, filthy teeth, he managed to pick the right spell from the depth of his memory, and now he only needed a little time to recite it, a little time and a free hand, it was already on his lips-

“Seimei?” Hiromasa’s sleepy whisper reached him from above and very close.

Hiromasa.

Seimei pushed away, gasping in horror, tearing away from Hiromasa’s embrace, and rolling across the floor, until, finally, he felt the steady coolness of the opposite wall behind his back. Only then could he catch his breath.

Luckily Hiromasa didn’t wake up. Seimei stayed pressed to the wall for the better part of an hour, trying to make his heart beat at its normal pace instead of exploding in his chest and then sitting silently for several scary moments. Once the fright was over, though, he felt drained of all strength. He was thirsty, and he knew there had to be a jug of water in the opposite corner of the room, but he simply didn’t have it in him to go that far.

He considered lying down right where he was sitting, but then he remembered the promise he had made to Hiromasa. They were supposed to spend this night together. It was important to his lover. He’d hurt Hiromasa enough with his distrust the previous day. He had to try and mend it.

So, gathering up the last remnants of strength, Seimei crawled back across the floor and slipped under the blanket and into the hot circle of his lover’s arms. Hiromasa murmured something reassuring without waking up, and Seimei let himself relax. It was so easy to convince himself the earlier episode had been nothing but a wild glitch of his sleeping mind. So tempting to think it would not happen again. He felt so good lying there, by his lover’s side, without a care in the world. Surely, he was allowed this moment of peace.

… Apparently, not.

The second time he woke up that night, he was holding a handful of fox fire inches from Hiromasa’s chest. He didn’t even remember what imagery his mind had come up with this time, he barely managed to jump to his feet and run out of the room and onto the veranda, where he finally could send the fire floating into the night sky.

The world was dark and peaceful, with no even slightest breeze to disturb the frost-covered grasses and pine needles. The night sky was clear, and it stared at Seimei with all of its myriads of tiny eyes. He stepped out into the courtyard and lifted his head defiantly to stare into the face of the Universe.

“Why are you torturing me? Why can’t I have even this brief moment of happiness?” he whispered accusingly.

But nothing stirred. The eyes didn’t look away in shame. In fact, more of them appeared from the darkness. Tiny and bulging, round and narrowed, glowing and glittering, they peeped out of crevices, stared from between the grass stems, gazed indifferently from the eaves.

Defeated, the onmyouji lowered his head. He needn’t have asked the skies to know the answer: he didn’t belong in Hiromasa’s world. In a world of love and warmth, of sharing joys and supporting each other, in a world where parents were understanding and nights were spent together, there was no place for a half-blood. Just like Hiromasa didn’t belong in the world of monsters, where fear was a guide to survival, where atrocities reigned and nothing was what it seemed.

He should have realised it before they got so deeply entangled. Who was he trying to fool? He had realised it. But the temptation of those warm lips, of the welcoming arms, it had been too great. He was but a weak man. But not so weak as to be irresponsible when it came to Hiromasa’s life.

Seimei realised he was standing in the courtyard almost naked, save for a simple white underrobe draped over his right shoulder. He pulled it on to make a step towards decency, although he couldn’t think of going back to the sleeping Hiromasa’s side in order to dress properly. After all, creatures of the night didn’t care much for decency, and creatures of the day had better stay away from him that night.

Feeling dirty and disgusted with himself, he walked out of the gates and headed towards the river, frosty grass under his bare feet providing but a small distraction from his sad thoughts.

 

Hiromasa woke in the middle of the night, finding his bed empty and cold.

“Seimei?” he called, not really hoping for an answer. When none came, he couldn’t resist swearing under his breath.

Really. What was wrong with the man? No, seriously. Yes, he was difficult sometimes, and mysterious and even dangerous. But after everything that had transpired between them that evening, surely Seimei could afford to stay put for one night. One night. Was it really so difficult?

“Do I stink or something?” Hiromasa mumbled, getting up and fumbling with the tinderbox to light a torch. The flame shone on an empty room. Hiromasa grit his teeth.

He was getting angry. He would find Seimei and give him quite a piece of his mind. He was done being afraid. He was done sparing the man the scene any other lover would have made long ago. The idea of a relationship implied two people making an effort. Two. And Hiromasa couldn’t possibly be expected to carry the full weight of their relationship without sharing.

So, resolved to find Seimei and share a good, juicy lump of the weight, Hiromasa dressed and stomped out, his sleeves billowing and capturing a few silencing charms that were still attached to the sliding screens.

Coming out to the courtyard, he realised that he had no idea where to look for Seimei. He supposed, the man had gone to one of the cold rooms, but he hadn’t paid attention to the location of those.

Then he noticed that the gate was ajar and shook his head exasperatedly. Seimei had threatened to go back to the capital, but surely that was too eccentric even for him! Angry, confused and beginning to get worried, Hiromasa ventured outside.

It was already starting to dawn, the sky turning grey at the edges. Hiromasa left the torch, that wasn’t doing him any good, and walked down the road until it joined a bigger one across. The ground was sandy, and in the dry winter weather the sand was powdery, and it kept the imprints for a short while. Hiromasa bent down and looked carefully. He expected to see the characteristic pattern of suede boots, however, he was shocked to make out a chain of barefoot prints leading downhill from where he was standing. The feet were too big for a woman, but perhaps a little smaller than average for a man, neat and perfectly shaped. He knew those prints. He’d kissed those soles.

“Were you so eager to get away from me that you didn’t even bother to put on some shoes?” Hiromasa wondered aloud, his heart sinking. He hesitated for a while, but eventually decided to go. He was unlikely to fall asleep anyway, and suffering till morning wouldn’t improve his temper. Besides, it was better to have this talk away from the inn and his mother. So he followed the trail.

He came to a halt under a tree by the river bank when he saw Seimei emerging from the water, his single white underrobe clinging to his body. Hiromasa felt chilled to near death just from looking at his lover, but Seimei seemed oblivious to the weather conditions, walking slowly, as if in a dream, fingers skimming across the surface of the water.

“Can he be sleepwalking?” Hiromasa wondered, staring.

The onmyouji finally came ashore and paused to take a deep breath. Then he turned away from Hiromasa and started moving again. this time at his normal brisk pace, towards the Matsunoo shrine. This didn’t look like sleepwalking anymore, but Hiromasa decided to interfere anyway.

“Seimei!” he called loudly enough that the echo brought the name back to him from the other side of the river.

But Seimei didn’t turn back or notice him in any way at all. Bemused, Hiromasa followed.

Seimei led him all the way to the shrine gate, which opened wide to admit him. Since it was in no hurry to close, Hiromasa snuck in too. That was when he saw the boulders moving.

They were murmuring in soft, low voices, slowly swinging from side to side, making their way through the moss and dirt, great numbers of them all worming their way towards the main temple. From time to time, a boulder would swing too much towards another and smash into it, causing splinters to break off, and that would cause a commotion of sorts, a louder hum of stone voices, and then it went back to the steady murmur of moving rocks accompanied by a strange rattling or sizzling sound.

Hiromasa was too scared to even scream. Had anything attacked him then, he would have died in silence, having forgotten the very idea of movement or sound. He was unaware of his own body, and only his terrified mind registered Seimei’s movements as the onmyouji walked right in between the boulders to a spot where a group of them formed a circle.

Those ones weren’t going anywhere. However, as Seimei approached, something like white shadows emerged from them and quickly took shape of nine men and women, elderly, but stocky. Seimei joined their circle, and they seemed to converse for a while. Then the onmyouji nodded, and as if taking that for an order, the spirits of the stones turned into white shadows again and floated away in all directions, gliding right through the outer wall of the shrine. Seimei stood there for a short time, whispering to the stones, and then turned back to the gate.

He was almost within reach by the time he finally noticed Hiromasa. He gave a strangled yelp and teetered away, almost falling over on the uneven ground. Hiromasa grabbed his arm without thinking, just to keep him on his feet. Seimei’s robe was still completely soaked and so cold, it seemed to Hiromasa that he was holding a frosty branch, not a human arm.

“What are you doing here?” Seimei gasped when he got over the initial shock.

“Same question to you,” Hiromasa countered.

Seimei pulled his arm free and nodded towards the exit.

“I came to see the boulders move,” he offered, walking out of the gate and gesturing it to close.

“What made you take a swim in the middle of winter?” Hiromasa questioned further, his fear calling back the anger from before and mixing it with worry for Seimei’s well-being. As well as, perhaps, his sanity.

The onmyouji didn’t answer, instead picking up the pace.

“Seimei!” Hiromasa hurried to catch up. “Seimei!!!” he bellowed, reaching out in an exasperated gesture.

His lover turned sharply and frowned. Then he bent down and snaked a hand into Hiromasa’s sleeve, fishing out two silencing charms.

“So this is why I didn’t notice you until I almost walked into you,” he commented, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t notice it getting there,” Hiromasa mumbled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Seimei looked at him for a long moment, then turned away, regret flashing briefly across his features. He eyed his wet robe critically and then looked up to the eastern horizon, where the sun was threatening to appear any moment.

“I’d rather get back to the inn before anyone wakes up,” he said flatly and started walking again, much faster than before.

“But, Seimei…” Hiromasa struggled to keep up. “What- Why-... What’s going on?”

“This is the end of our affair,” Seimei gritted out.

“ _What!?_ ” Hiromasa almost screamed.

Seimei halted in his stride, his feet raising small clouds of dust on the road. He whirled around and faced Hiromasa as if to ensure there was no mistake.

“I am ending this relationship,” he said, his face a blank mask, pale in the morning sunlight.

“No!” gasped Hiromasa, but Seimei was not going to listen to his arguments. He turned again and walked away, leaving Hiromasa in the middle of the road. “No,” he stood repeating. “No, no, no…”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited reconciliation)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, General_Zargon.

The dawn found Hiromasa on the river bank, mindlessly throwing pebbles into the water. He was devastated. He’d sat here for several hours, turning yesterday’s events every which way in his head, trying to figure out what exactly he’d done so wrong that Seimei had to dump him. Perhaps he should’ve been more patient. Or maybe it was his falling asleep in the bath. Or was it about sharing the damn room? Now he would never know.

He stretched out on the rimey grass, massaging his neck, which kept reminding him that people were supposed to sleep through the night, not sit motionlessly in the cold for hours. The top of the mountain was covered in fog. The previous day Seimei had said they would have to go up there to meet the god. Was that still the plan? Had Seimei gone alone? A voice in his mind told him he should go and check with Seimei. Even if they weren’t lovers anymore (and he felt stabbed in the stomach at the thought), he still had to help with the investigation. But that voice was distant and couldn’t get his attention. It felt as if he’d returned to the capital only to find the place in ruins with hundreds of people dead and injured. Would he pay attention to a priest’s muttering?

Instead, he turned his thoughts to things closer to home. His mother was still at the inn. Probably expecting to see him at breakfast. He should go and see her before she returned to the capital. He had told his mother that he and Seimei were lovers, but how was he going to tell her that they weren’t anymore? Would she be angry at Seimei on his behalf? He didn’t want anyone to be angry at Seimei. But he had to talk to her anyway.

 

He found her in her room, maids busy packing her robes and toiletries. She was looking at a small travelling mirror, adding final strokes to her elaborate hairstyle, but when Hiromasa appeared behind her, put it down and turned to him with concern immediately.

“Dear son, what has happened? Has anyone been hurt?”

“No,” Hiromasa sighed, sitting down across from his mother. He really wanted to fall face-first into her lap and cry for a few hours, like he did when he was very, very small. But he was an adult man now and strong enough to manage his problems, even if they meant the end of his world.

Lady Nizeko made a gesture with her fan and the waiting women took the hint to leave.

“It is lord Seimei, isn’t it?”

Her voice was quiet and warm, but Hiromasa still felt the need to defend his… not lover anymore.

“It’s not his fault. We just…”

“You quarrelled for the first time,” she suggested.

“Yes. Well, kind of. It’s more like… we broke up.”

Confusingly, his mother smiled.

“You are still so young, my dear Hiromasa,” she said fondly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hiromasa frowned.

“You have a bit of an idealistic view of love,” she offered, not really making him feel any better. “You seem to think that once people find each other, they stay together naturally, as if by their very design matching each other’s needs and preferences. But that is not so.”

“Of course I knew there’d be problems,” Hiromasa countered. “I’m not naive. Seimei is no easy person, and I never know what he’s up to, but… I thought what we had was important to him…” he couldn’t keep defeat out of his voice.

“And you were right,” she nodded.

“How do you know?”

“Oh please, Hiromasa. He tried so hard to win my good graces yesterday. Why would he bother if he wasn’t serious about you?”

“Well, that’s what I thought. But then he just went and ended it. For no reason even.”

Lady Nizeko chuckled.

“Do you know how many times I did that to your father?”

Hiromasa stared at her.

“But - why!?”

She inclined her head, pensive.

“For all kinds of ridiculous reasons. Sometimes I was overconfident and decided to test him. Other times, it suddenly seemed that he could never be happy with me, so I had to push him away before things had gone too far… He said his share of stupid things, too. It was like a swing. At first we got thrown back and forth a lot, but over time the swinging became less, until finally we settled in a comfortable place.”

Which was when he died, Hiromasa thought.

“You’ve never told me that,” he mentioned.

“Some stories should be reserved for the time when they become relevant,” she smiled again.

“So, you think, he’ll come back to me?” Hiromasa asked, hopeful.

“Well, I don’t know your Seimei all that well, I don’t know how stubborn he can be in these matters. But I know one thing - neither my family or your father’s have ever been known for giving up easily. If he really matters to you, you should try to find a way to win him back. And winning people is something you are generally very good at.”

Hiromasa smiled and bit his lips to keep his composure.

“Thank you, mother. I will certainly try.”

“Well then, off you go!” she made a shooing gesture and Hiromasa allowed the slight movement of the air to carry him out. Indeed, this wasn’t any time for wallowing in self-pity. He had Seimei to bring back, and that couldn’t be done half-heartedly. But he was determined now. He’d conquered Seimei once, he’d do it again.

* * *

Finding Seimei turned out to be a problem of its own, though. Hiromasa quickly checked the inn grounds and any areas open to guests, but, of course, there was no sign of the onmyouji. Tired of the hide-and-seek, Hiromasa got as high as he could go up the slope and climbed a cedar. And from that vantage point he finally spotted a tiny white figure getting out of a boat on the opposite shore of the river.

“He’s gone alone then,” Hiromasa sighed. It was not the worst scenario, though. At least Seimei was still determined to help the local people. Hiromasa thought back to when they had just met - back then Seimei wouldn’t move a finger without a good reason. He only ever agreed to do the right thing for Hiromasa’s sake. So, perhaps, he still wanted to please Hiromasa, even without realising it.

He jumped down from the wall and ran downhill as fast as he could to catch another boat.

“The lord told us that shore might be dangerous for a while,” the boatsman frowned at him, as Hiromasa skidded to a halt and was trying to catch his breath.

“Yes... and it might be dangerous... for the lord himself,” Hiromasa panted. “I’d rather he wasn’t alone there.”

The boatsmen exchanged a grave look.

“The lord was very insistent.”

Hiromasa scowled. Apparently, Seimei had threatened them into keeping Hiromasa on this shore.

“Well, I can be very insistent too,” he announced, straightening up and putting on his most haughty court personality. “That man is a provincial sixth rank, and I am the Emperor’s nephew. Are you sure you’d rather get in trouble with me?”

The boatsman gulped and looked at his mates again.

“Forgive me, my lord,” he said eventually, stepping aside to let Hiromasa get on board. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“You’d better get me there really quickly if you want to have any money for this,” Hiromasa informed him, climbing into the boat.

The man didn’t need to be told twice.

Running up a very steep mountain wasn’t Hiromasa’s favourite way of passing the time, but at long last it was rewarded: the path made another turn, and there was Seimei standing still and looking over his shoulder with a bored expression.

“If you meant to make a surprise appearance, you’ve failed miserably,” the onmyouji remarked. “Your panting could probably be heard from the very top.”

“Surprise wasn’t on my mind,” Hiromasa gasped, trying to catch his breath and not to fall over. “Was it on yours?”

Seimei cast a long look up ahead.

“I doubt there is anyone to surprise up there, but I find stealth to be a good strategy in any circumstances.”

“Right,” Hiromasa managed to stand straight at last, powered by a new wave of hurt. “That’s why you snuck out in the middle of the night and then rejected me _for no reason_.”

“And you couldn’t wait till I come back to chastise me for that?” Seimei said in a cool voice, straining so much to keep his expression blank that Hiromasa could see the effort. They started walking up the path.

“You know me better than to say that,” Hiromasa ground out. “I came because your job here may be dangerous and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Oh yes, like you can protect me,” Seimei laughed in a very unpleasant manner. “You seem to have forgotten, my dear Hiromasa, that you are but a mere mortal. Your coming along with me to a dangerous place means more trouble for me, not less, because I have to keep you safe. You are a useless nuisance with a propensity to get in the way. You don’t really believe that you could be of any help, do you?”

“No, of course, I’ve never ever helped you,” Hiromasa agreed in a dangerous voice. “Even when you were cursed and lost yourself.”

“And whose fault was that in the first place?” Seimei countered immediately, as if he was expecting it.

Hiromasa closed his eyes and walked a few steps blindly, trying to come to terms with what Seimei really thought of him. Seimei didn’t care anymore. Back when they had been together, Seimei used to drag Hiromasa along to all kinds of adventures because Hiromasa was a good archer, a tolerable sword-wielder, or at least could be used as bait, and then sometimes Hiromasa’s attempts at making sense of the world inspired Seimei for a true insight. Or so Seimei had said. Apparently, he didn’t really need Hiromasa. He was a nuisance. The whole time he was just - tolerated. And there was no coming to terms with that. Their relationship was beyond salvation.

Hiromasa opened his eyes again and looked at the man walking side by side with him, his pale skin and white robes glowing with an other-worldly light. The man who held the key to his happiness and had resolved to bury it in a deep hole without marking the place. That was it, Hiromasa realised. He was not going to be happy ever again.

It felt strange, a bit like being drunk: it made the surroundings seem muffled and far away. He recalled a prank that had been played on him by his friends when he was a youth.They lured him into some kind of abandoned underground pantry and shut the trapdoor. The memory was vivid before his mental gaze now: the heavy wooden hatch being lowered over his head, cutting off the sunlight.

Coming back to reality, he sped up his pace to get ahead of Seimei and then turned to face him, blocking the way.

“If I am indeed so useless and annoying to you, why do you even bother to keep me safe then? Why not just let the fate have its way?”

For a moment, an emotion seemed to get through to Seimei’s eyes, but it was gone before Hiromasa could be sure. Seimei raised a mocking eyebrow.

“I am not a cruel man.”

Hiromasa couldn’t believe his ears. This - from the man who’d just destroyed him for no reason?

“I hate to disappoint you but you are,” he blurted out before he could think about it.

Seimei froze and looked away, visibly gathering up strength for a new, even more powerful insult. Hiromasa considered bracing himself, but then decided to take it with his heart open. After all, what more harm could be done?

“Hasn’t your mother told you that associating with demons you’d set yourself up for getting hurt?” Seimei offered.

“Are you then?” Hiromasa felt dizzy from chasing after his own scattering thoughts. “Are you a demon who will hurt me? Is that what you choose to be?”

“It isn’t up to me to choose,” Seimei retorted, but without much conviction.

“Oh isn’t it? So it’s the fate? Well then, if the Universe commands you to hurt me, perhaps you shouldn’t make her wait. You are halfway there already anyway. Go on,” he stepped closer, the outer layer of his robes almost brushing at Seimei’s. “Please, finish the job then. It’s not like you, this half-hearted attitude. You always go through with things. Come on, it should be easy for you, I’m but a mere mortal-”

“ _Stop it_!” Seimei snapped, pressing his palms over his ears. “This won’t get you anywhere!”

But Hiromasa noticed that his lower lip was trembling. On a mad whim he brought up his arms and pulled Seimei closer. The man gave a strained gasp and tried to pull away, but weakly, and his perfunctory attempts ceased after Hiromasa tightened his embrace. They stood there for a while, pressed together, and Hiromasa felt the chill of the morning being chased out of his bones with the warmth of Seimei’s body, or rather, just the fact that Seimei still allowed him this contact. His heart raced with joy and hope. Perhaps it could all be saved then. Perhaps his life could still have meaning.

“Let me go,” said Seimei without so much as trying to push away.

Hiromasa felt his breath knocked out of him.

“Why?”

“I told you, it’s over between us.”

“But you don’t want it to be over!” Hiromasa exclaimed with a desperation of a sentenced man.

“No,” Seimei agreed simply. And then he added, as if talking to himself, “But the world doesn’t always do what I want.”

Hiromasa grit his teeth and tightened his arms, determined not to let this little victory slip through his fingers.

“Please,” Seimei whispered.

Hiromasa stood still, like a stubborn child, silent and gloomy.

Seimei made a strange noise — it started like a sigh, and then turned into a kind of a moan — then Hiromasa felt an odd motion in the circle of his arms, and in a moment Seimei slipped away, having turned into a fox.

While Hiromasa stood there gaping and trying to figure out whether to chase after his lover or try to reason with him, the fox-Seimei trotted a few paces away and turned back human, the expression on his face showing such reluctance that it was bordering on pain.

“Please, leave me alone,” he said quietly.

“But why!?” Hiromasa exploded. “Who is making you do this? What happened? What am I missing?”

Seimei shook his head.

“I am too dangerous for you. If this continues, you will come to harm.”

“Is this...” Hiromasa stopped and took a deep breath trying to calm down enough to say what he thought and not to scream it, “Is this all because of a bite!?”

“No,” Seimei waved him off. “No, it is much worse than that. Don’t come any closer.”

Hiromasa was about to do just that, but stopped — not because of Seimei’s warning, but because of what was happening to his beloved.

Seimei was emitting an infernal bluish glow, his face made unfamiliar in the weird light, lips twisted in a grimace of mockery and pain. He lifted a hand, and from it rose a blue flame, unfurling like a fern shoot, its tips flickering and swirling into silvery spirals. In a brisk gesture Seimei clenched his fist on the flame and threw it into a pile of dry branches by the side of the path. It caught on fire and blazed for a few moments before turning into a sad little pile of ash. Hiromasa’s eyes hurt from the ferocity of the flame and he kept seeing its feathers wherever he looked.

“I almost did this to you last night,” came Seimei’s heavy voice.

Hiromasa was still busy processing the incineration, so his reaction was somewhat slowed down.

“Huh? Me? Why? Did I do something in my sleep?”

“No,” Seimei looked disturbed. “I hope you are not thinking I could’ve done such a thing to you on purpose.”

Hiromasa blinked and mentally went through the last few lines of the conversation in an attempt to follow Seimei’s logic for once.

“No,” he said finally. “I am absolutely sure that you would never do something like this to me, intentionally or otherwise. I am sorry for implying it. But I still don’t understand what it has to do with last night.”

Seimei closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if tired from explaining the same simple idea many times.

“I almost incinerated you in my sleep,” he stated clearly.

“In your sl-” Hiromasa started, but broke off and went on to the next thought, “Did you have a bad dr- Oh, wait, _that_ ’s what it was all about! You didn’t want to sleep with me - did you know?..”

Seimei neither answered, nor looked at him.

“Oh dear…” breathed Hiromasa. “So that is why… But why didn’t you just tell me that it’s that kind of a problem? I wouldn’t have insisted then…”

“I was hoping that perhaps for once it wouldn’t be a problem,” Seimei offered quietly.

“And when you realised that it’s a problem after all, you decided to reject me altogether,” Hiromasa observed.

“I do not belong to your world,” Seimei practically whispered. “You’ve seen me for what I am. My place is with demons and apparitions, disembodied and ruthless. You shouldn’t be with me. My world is too dangerous for you, and in more ways than one.”

“Seimei,” Hiromasa shook his head disbelievingly. “What are you saying? It is one and the same world. Humans and demons live side by side, and no one is safe from occasional encounters. Are you suggesting that I should close my eyes and ignore the reality, hoping that the worst of it would pass me by? You know I am not that kind of person.”

“I’d keep you safe,” Seimei almost pleaded, and Hiromasa felt his heart starting to crack in half.

“I think it should be easier for you to keep me safe if you also keep me around.”

“I can’t keep you safe from myself.”

“We’ll sleep in different rooms, I won’t mind anymore.” Hiromasa made a step closer.

Seimei stepped away and leaned on a tree trunk.

“Please, Hiromasa. You are making this very difficult for me.”

“I don’t know why you thought that it would be easy to get rid of me, especially when you don’t want to,” Hiromasa shrugged.

“I just don’t want to ruin the one important thing I have in this world!” Seimei snapped, at last looking up at him, eyes bright and so human. He immediately looked like he regretted what he said, but it was too late - Hiromasa heard him.

Seimei watched Hiromasa’s handsome face split into a happy grin and realised that his game was lost. There was nothing to keep this man away from him anymore.

As if to confirm that, Hiromasa decisively crossed the distance separating them, not bothering to allow Seimei his space. He opened his arms in a demanding gesture, and Seimei felt the last scraps of his will evaporate. He was but a weak man, while Hiromasa, for all his innocence and pleasantness, was a strong man. There was no way Seimei could ever resist that smile. He’d forfeited half of his principles for those eyes, he would abandon the other half just as easily.

“I am a lost cause,” he mused aloud, nestling his head against Hiromasa’s collarbone.

“You are the ultimate prize,” came the answer through the lips pressed into his hair.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it goes, sorry for the break))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, General_Zargon.

“If we keep standing here, we’ll never get to the top,” Hiromasa observed after a few minutes.

“You are the one who started it,” Seimei countered, apparently not intending to move anywhere from his cozy position underneath Hiromasa’s sleeves, like a giant bird’s wings.

“Guilty as charged,” Hiromasa admitted. “I don’t really understand what you are hoping to find at the top, but it must be important if you have gone looking.”

“Hiromasa, you really shouldn’t have such blind faith in me,” Seimei sighed and rubbed his forehead against Hiromasa’s throat. “But you are right, we need to go.”

Even more reluctantly than before, he extracted himself from Hiromasa’s embrace and made a step uphill, but felt his hand snatched by a bigger and warmer one. Fingers entwined, they walked side-by-side like children, the chilly winter wind blowing around them both as if they were one entity.

“Haven’t I told you about the reason for our ascent?” asked Seimei after they had walked long enough it became obvious that Hiromasa wasn’t going to keep questioning.

“Maybe,” Hiromasa frowned. “So much’s happened since, you may as well consider my memory to be wiped clean.”

Seimei chuckled.

“Well, let’s give your deductive skills a go. What do you reckon happened here?”

“Err...” Hiromasa gave himself a mental shake to try and focus to the best of his ability. “Well... Apparently, something happened to the god of the well, and it must’ve happened back when he suddenly developed a liking for red beans, because otherwise it would be too much of a coincidence. And something must keep happening because more and more wells are turning bad. And then the walking rocks... I’d say they are the ones who are spoiling the water.”

“Why is that?” Seimei asked, his face unreadable.

“Well, because they are creepy!” Hiromasa made a clumsy gesture. “Rocks aren’t supposed to walk at night.”

“And lovers aren’t supposed to shoot fire at each other.”

“Oh don’t you start again!” Hiromasa wailed.

“But, Hiromasa, it is the same thing,” Seimei turned to him with a slightly bemused expression. “You don’t think I’m creepy, but you think those rocks are. Why? They haven’t done anything to threaten you, have they? Because they don’t look like humans?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hiromasa said quietly. “There are lots of humans whom I don’t trust. It doesn’t have anything to do with looks. I know you, Seimei, and I know what to expect from you. Those things — I’ve never seen anything even remotely like them. Besides, if they’re harmless, why would the priests be afraid of them?”

“But you trusted me long before you got to know me,” Seimei observed.

“I am a good judge of character,” Hiromasa said with an air of self-importance.

“Oh really?” Seimei laughed.

They stared at each other. Hiromasa could see Seimei was trying to come up with a dramatic counter-example: Lady of the Full Moon, Susa, various courtiers... But Hiromasa indeed didn’t put any substantial amount of faith into anyone who didn’t really deserve it.

“Well, perhaps, somewhat better than average,” Seimei conceded.

Hiromasa nodded with satisfaction and picked up the pace.

“So, I understand you’re trying to tell me that the stones aren’t dangerous.”

“Hmm,” Seimei thought for a moment. “Let’s say they are not evil. They might become dangerous, however, if this situation continues. But then, anyone can become dangerous if cornered. Even you, love.”

Hiromasa jumped slightly at the address and turned to check if he’d really heard what he thought he’d heard, but Seimei kept talking as if everything was completely within the ordinary.

“I will tell you my perspective on this matter, if you like. Same as you, I believe that there must be a connection between the pollution of water and the god’s demand for red beans. Unlike you, though, I carefully examined the temple’s wash basin and found that there are red beans actually in there.”

“Why would there be offerings in the wash basin?” Hiomasa was puzzled.

“I asked myself that yesterday, and then again today. You see, when I came to the inn this morning to change, I tasted the water again and found that it had become polluted overnight.”

“And there are red beans in it?” Hiromasa guessed.

“Precisely,” Seimei smiled happily, as if what he found were jewels. “But even more interesting is the taste of the polluted water. I don’t believe you actually tried it, did you?”

“No,” Hiromasa made a face. “Should I have?”

“Well, if you wanted to establish the source of pollution... You see, that taste is very similar to the one of rotting red beans.”

“Oh,” Hiromasa raised his eyebrows. “Like, when the beans are left in water for too long and go bad?”

“Ah-ha,” Seimei nodded, satisfied.

“So, wait, are you saying it’s the offering of beans that polluted the water, and that’s it?”

“Hmm, no, I’m afraid it’s slightly more complicated. You see, someone had to ask for the beans offerings in the first place. Someone who really likes red beans and necessarily puts them into water. Any ideas who that might be?”

Hiromasa examined the virtual landscape of his memory. He had a feeling he’d come across this combination before. Perhaps not through personal experience, but he must have heard something like this from Seimei. After all, ever since they met Seimei had been sharing his knowledge so eagerly, Hiromasa sometimes thought the man really needed an apprentice. Over the time they spent together, Hiromasa had probably learned more about the world and the diversity of its inhabitants than any other courtier managed in a lifetime. Just a couple weeks ago, when he got a little lost in the woods to the south of the capital, he was able to find his way by looking at the darkening sky with the first stars and planets emerging in it.

Lost... That was it! The priest, Seimei’s acquaintance, that’s what he said — he got lost four times, going up and down the mountain slope. There was something about getting lost, and beans, and-

“Azuki-arai!” he exclaimed happily, clapping his hands. The latter turned out to be a stupid thing to do because he was still holding onto Seimei and ended up slapping him on the knuckles. Seimei laughed, and Hiromasa quickly brought his hand up and kissed the hurt spot.

“Very good, Hiromasa,” Seimei praised, apparently, the deduction. “Very good. Indeed, this is who I believe the culprit is — Azuki-arai, the demon who washes red beans by the river, singing his song and making people lose their way.”

“Yes, of course, the song!” Hiromasa was still excited from his little achievement. “Kouji said he heard an untoward song, went to reprimand the singer and got lost! Was that when you figured it out?”

“Talking to Kouji was quite enlightening, yes,” Seimei purred with the satisfaction of a man whose world followed his rules.

“But how can a demon become a god?” Hiromasa suddenly wondered.

Seimei chortled without much mirth.

“In your mind, Hiromasa, all things are so precise and separate from each other. But most things in the world tend to merge and blend together, especially in the world of spirits. For a demon to become a god only one thing is needed: human worship. If people start making offerings and addressing prayers to a demon, it becomes a god. If people forget and neglect a god, it becomes a demon. In fact, those very concepts are but a spell. If you bind a creature by the spell ‘god’, it acts like a god, and vice versa.”

“Right,” Hiromasa sighed. “It had to come to spells eventually, didn’t it.”

“It is hard to avoid spells if you are keen on continuing a relationship with an onmyouji,” Seimei remarked quietly.

“Then teach me one that would make you happy,” Hiromasa suggested.

Seimei gave him a side glance. “That’s not how they work.”

Hiromasa felt the conversation wasn’t getting them anywhere. Besides, now that their relationship was more or less back to normal, his fear returned as well. In fact, it got worse because on top of all the rather rational fears that he’d had, now there was the irrational fear that Seimei could leave him for some reason he could not anticipate. And then there were Seimei’s words about how Hiromasa was a nuisance and only ever caused trouble. The path leading them around the mountain was winding in increasingly tighter circles, so the top must have been close. Would Azuki-arai be there? How dangerous was he? Hiromasa hadn’t even taken any weapon. What good was he really going to be for Seimei?

“Hiromasa,” Seimei called him out of his heavy thoughts. “This is probably not the best time for it, but I can’t help but notice that you’ve changed lately.”

“Changed?” Hiromasa echoed, a wave of fresh fear washing over him. Judging by the expression, Seimei didn’t like the change, whatever it was.

“Yes. You keep a lot to yourself and you appear sad and worried all the time, especially when you think I’m not looking.”

“I, erm…” Hiromasa struggled to make something up, but in the end just spread his hands in a helpless gesture and shrugged.

“I realize,” Seimei continued, “that you probably aren’t aware of this. Myself being not exactly a forthcoming person, I am not complaining, but I’m rather concerned I might be having a bad influence on you.”

“No!” Hiromasa gasped, clutching Seimei’s hand in his. “Please don’t think like that! I couldn’t possibly be happier than I am with you!”

“That’s flattering. However you don’t look very happy a lot of the time.”

Hiromasa really wanted to say that it had nothing to do with Seimei, but he realized that wasn’t true by any measure. He was torn between lying, which he detested, and telling some version of the truth, which was way too dangerous. He really couldn’t tell Seimei how much their relationship scared him all the time.

“I can’t demand that you tell me,” Seimei went on with a sad calmness. “But I thought if I’m at the root of it, perhaps, I could do something to make you happier…”

Hiromasa felt a lump in his throat. Hearing Seimei offer something like that was so moving… It was hard to believe that Seimei could be so interested in him as to actually try to make him feel better. It wasn’t too much of an effort on an absolute scale, but coming from Seimei, it was precious to Hiromasa, and he realized he couldn’t reject his lover’s attempt at deepening their bond. He didn’t want to upset Seimei, but compared to the man’s typical distant conduct this was so genuine that Hiromasa had to reward it with sincerity.

“It’s not all that important,” he started carefully, glancing at Seimei to see his reaction. The man appeared calmly interested. “Just the usual worries of a lover, you know. I am afraid to lose you over something stupid.”

“And I give you plenty of reason for that fear, don’t I,” Seimei mused aloud. “Why are you silent about it? I can tell you want to ask or say something at times, but you don’t. Why?”

“Because I’m clumsy with words, and I never know how you would react. Besides, there are so many things you wouldn’t talk to me about, and I’m afraid that if I ask something, I might stumble into one of those and… You know.”

“You call that ‘the usual worries of a lover’? How many people do you think have that level of consideration?”

“Well, all right, perhaps people are normally more relaxed, but that’s because their lovers are ordinary people,” Hiromasa tried to explain. “I mean, if I were courting some princess, I probably wouldn’t care all that much either.”

“But you’re just unlucky enough to be infatuated with me,” Seimei finished for him.

Hiromasa stumbled and stopped. His face was tense, and his hands rolled up into fists with worry.

“See, that’s why I didn’t want to talk to you about it! Now you’re going to come up with some nonsense reason to dump me, like it would be better for me or something! But Seimei, I can never be happier with anyone else!”

Seimei turned to face him with a small smile.

“No, I’m not going to dump you over some nonsense reason,” he assured. “I am sorry if I haven’t shown enough appreciation of your thoughtfulness. I will try to improve.”

“Really?” Hiromasa breathed out and chanced a grin. “It really means something to you?”

Seimei gave him a puzzled look.

“You’ve just told me you can’t be happier with anyone else, and now you’re surprised it matters to me? How can it not? Or do you think I’m so spoilt with attention that confessions like this are nothing out of the ordinary?”

Hiromasa blushed a little, his excitement deflated. “Please don’t mock me for this.”

“I didn’t intend it as a mockery, I am genuinely confused. I thought you were with me because you enjoyed it, but…”

“I’m with you because I love you. But I don’t know why you’re with me, or how long you’re going to be, or how much it means to you. And now you’ve told me that I’m a nuisance and I cause more trouble than I solve.”

“Oh, Hiromasa, surely you realize that I only said those words in an effort to scare you away, and I do not actually believe that.”

“But they are true, aren’t they?” Hiromasa shrugged. “I am pretty useless most of the time.”

Seimei moved his lips as if to counter that, but stayed silent. Hiromasa wasn’t looking at him, eyes trained on the frosty grass of the path, mind lost in a labyrinth of scenarios, all doomed to failure.

It suddenly felt to Seimei that he was seeing this man for the first time. Hiromasa had always been the confident one between the two of them. The one who expressed his needs and feelings, the one who pulled the cart of their loose union. Seimei realized that after Hiromasa’s inital confession he just expected things to flow naturally on their own: for some time Hiromasa would stay with him, and then sooner or later he would drift away, just like all the other lovers he’d ever had. He’d wanted it to happen later rather than sooner, and so he tried to be a slightly better lover than usual, keeping his jealousy and misanthropy at bay.

But this situation was completely unexpected. It turned out, Hiromasa had his own insecurities. He needed to hear something definite from Seimei - not as a marker of a sexual victory, but just to know how to move on. This wasn’t about Seimei anymore. No one was attempting to violate the protective cocoon of indifference that he had woven around himself over decades of his uneventful life. Instead, it was up to him to step out and allow himself to be examined in order to soothe another living being. Or rather,  the other living being. The only one that mattered.

He was still indecisive as to how to proceed when they were both distracted from their domestic by a rattling noise, which came from up the slope. Seimei and Hiromasa quickly exchanged glances.

“I think we’d better go on,” Hiromasa suggested.

Seimei turned around and picked up the pace, all the time keeping slightly ahead of his human companion and watching the slope attentively.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm still here) And it's big)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, General_Zargon.

Even before they stopped for a conversation, the air around them had turned moist and thick, and now they were entering a proper fog, or rather, at this altitude, a cloud that had come to rest on the top of the mountain. Soon there was nothing to be seen within a few paces, and Seimei caught Hiromasa’s sleeve and held onto it, worried that they might lose each other in the milky blankness. This time Hiromasa didn’t attempt to grab his hand, and Seimei’s heart responded with an uncharacteristic shivering.

The rattling grew louder and was now accompanied by a song, although they couldn’t make out the words. Seimei glanced at Hiromasa to check if he was anxious, but the man seemed to be too deep in his own thoughts to care about anything that might happen when they reached the top.

But there they finally were, at the top. The view here must have been spectacular if not for the fog. It was a shame, really, Seimei thought, to climb so high only to be practically blinded by a passing cloud. They should go on a trip like this another time, in better weather. And in a better mood.

“What is this awful stench?” Hiromasa whispered, scewing up his face.

Seimei noticed it too, and recognized it. He pulled his companion a couple paces forward, and then they were able to see it. Enormous piles of rotting red beans covered the small plateau at the top of the mountain. They rose over a human height and flooded the little temple of Oyamakui-kami so that only two corners of the roof could be seen.

“Shoki shoki shoki,” the rattling was so close now, Hiromasa thought he could reach the source with his hand if he stepped just a bit to the side. “Shall I wash my red beans?” came a creaky voice. “Or shall I catch a human to eat?”

It was so close. Hiromasa stepped towards the voice and reached out to grab, but there was nothing in the fog, and Seimei promptly pulled him back by the sleeve.

“But he’s just there!” Hiromasa whispered frustratedly.

“He’s luring you, that is what he does,” Seimei answered quietly.

Hiromasa stared at him. Right, that was how it was. He couldn’t believe he’d almost been taken in, even though he knew that demon’s specialty. It seemed he was no better than Kouji, after all.

Ashamed, Hiromasa stood motionless, watching the fog thicken and wrap around Seimei, who was now no more than an apparition, his pale face and white robes blending in with the mist.

“Can I trust you to stay still for a short while?” Seimei asked

Hiromasa nodded and blushed, feeling like a child whose nanny can’t leave him alone for fear that he’d misbehave.

Seimei gave his sleeve a final tug and let go, twining his fingers together. He started to whisper, and the words sounded oddly savage, nothing like the usual quiet flow of sibilants. The chanting was ragged and made Hiromasa’s heart beat in its unnatural rhythm, and soon it seemed like the very ground beneath his feet was trembling, echoing Seimei’s voice, which had grown louder. Seimei himself was barely visible, his image blurred and distorted by the spell. It occurred to Hiromasa that perhaps Seimei had never gone up the mountain, and this was but an illusion, and he was all alone in the world of spirits, where no one needed him as anything other than food.

Hiromasa was on the verge of tears, scared and lonely, the violent chant piercing through him like arrows. He needed to leave this place, to run and hide and let demons deal with demons.

“Can I trust you to stay still?” his memory brought back Seimei’s words. That’s right. He was trying not to cause any more trouble. Seimei had asked him to stay still, as if he were a nervous horse or a badly trained dog. Surely he had enough presence of spirit to carry out a simple request like that.

It was then that other shapes started to condense from the fog. Hiromasa recognized them, they were spirits of the stones from the temple grounds. The elderly and spooky-looking men and women, nine of them.

Seimei’s chanting suddenly ceased and he gave a deep and a very human sigh, catching his breath. Hiromasa felt a little relieved, even though the ghostly crowd still creeped him out.

“I locked him on the mountain,” Seimei said, addressing the spirits. “Have a good hunt.”

They bowed to him deeply and were gone in a swish of the wind. The fog swirled around and followed, slowly at first, but as the wind grew stronger, the air cleared completely, leaving them alone on the mountain top to contemplate a rare glimpse of winter sunlight over the hills.

The view was breathtaking, and Hiromasa simply stood rooted for a while, taking in what was worth to be a painted screen in Seimei’s reception room, but with so much more depth to it. Then he heard a noise to his left and turned to see what was happening.

Seimei was leaning forward, supporting himself with palms on his thighs, as if he couldn’t keep an upright posture. He was slightly unsteady and breathing heavily. Hiromasa dashed forward to catch him before he toppled over head first into a pile of red beans.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Seimei?”

“It’s all right, just exhausted,” the onmyouji replied, practically dangling in Hiromasa’s arms. “I’ll recover shortly.”

“Have you eaten today?” Hiromasa questioned, suddenly concerned.

“No, I wasn’t in the mood.”

“Oh really, Seimei! Like you didn’t know you’d have to use a lot of power! What did that chanting even do?”

“I thought I mentioned locking Azuki-arai on the mountain,” Seimei sounded annoyed. “This way the shikigami have a chance to actually find him.”

“The shikigami?” Hiromasa frowned. “I thought those were the deities from the stones.”

Seimei moaned slightly in exasperation and pushed himself up to stand straighter.

“Can we step away from this rotting pile, I really can’t take it anymore!”

“Oh yes, sure, sorry,” Hiromasa was glad for an opportunity to be even a little useful, so he practically carried Seimei down the slope and into the forest. He found a fallen tree trunk and seated Seimei on it, keeping a hand on his back in case he started falling.

“I’m not that weak,” his lover muttered, but took a deep breath and relaxed against Hiromasa’s hand all the same. “As for the shikigami… You are right, they  are minor local gods. They have always clung to the holy spring because its water gives them power. However, as the spring got polluted, they became very angry and started moving closer to the spring in order to find the culprit responsible for this. As you saw, the progress of the stone bodies they occupy wasn’t exactly impressive, therefore I allowed them to use my power so that they could travel around and locate Azuki-arai for me. That is how they became shikigami.”

“So, giving a god your power makes him your shikigami?” Hiromasa furrowed his brow.

“It depends on the god. If you remember, Doson had to offer his body in order to enable the spirit of Prince Sawara to use its powers, and we’ve already discussed that there is no much difference between gods and other kinds of spirits. Genkaku had to sacrifice his children to awaken a god. These local gods don’t require such prominent sacrifices, but any kind of shikigami take a lot of power anyway.”

Hiromasa was slightly disturbed by the comparisons Seimei had drawn; he wouldn’t want Seimei to ever have to sacrifice something important like that.

“What are they going to do to Azuki-arai?” he asked to keep his mind off grim scenarios.

“Probably tear him to shreds,” Seimei said flatly.

“What!?” Hiromasa gasped. “And you’ll let them!?”

“There is nothing else I can do,” his lover rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I can’t catch or defeat Azuki-arai myself, and I can’t control the gods with any more precision. They are very ancient, indeed. The notion of humaneness is completely alien to them.”

Hiromasa shuddered and put his arms around Seimei as if to signalize that he wasn’t blaming his lover for what the ancient creatures were probably doing even now.

“And what then?” he asked, his mind blank.

“After they are finished, I will let them go back to their stone bodies, and then I’ll have to try and summon Oyamakui-kami, if he is alive and well.”

“That sounds like an awfully difficult thing to do,” Hiromasa obseved.

“It is. But the water won’t clean itself and I’d rather not come here again tomorrow. You don’t have to worry this much about me, Hiromasa. I’ve been through worse.”

Hiromasa’s throat constricted with compassion and helplessness, he nuzzled Seimei’s neck to try and communicate some of his concern, like a cat that comes to rub its head against the foot of its master when he is sick.

“Is there anything at all I could do to make it easier for you?” he begged.

Seimei thought for a moment.

“Well, I suppose you could clear out the temple at the top. I need to use it for the summoning ritual, but seeing the state it’s in, I was going to have the shikigami clean it for me. That’s an extra expenditure that can be avoided.”

“All right,” Hiromasa got up eagerly. “I’ll go clean it then.”

Seimei laughed, almost losing his balance.

“Oh please, Hiromasa, don’t be ridiculous! It was just a joke.”

Hiromasa looked crestfallen.

“Why, isn’t what you said true?”

“It is, but it would only make a tiny difference for me, while for you it would be a tremendous effort, and it’d take you all day.”

“Even if it’s a tiny difference, it’s still a difference, and I’ll do it for you,” Hiromasa insisted stubbornly.

“Oh please,” Seimei smiled at him in disbelief. “It’s not worth it.”

“It is, for me. Please have a good rest, I will call you when I’m done.”

“Hiromasa, that’s... silly,” Seimei tried to protest, but the man already turned his back and was stomping away up the path. Seimei watched him go, feeling guilty about his misplaced humour, worried that Hiromasa must be angry with him, and generally confused.

The young noble, however, was not angry in the slightest. Instead, he was even a little relieved to finally put himself to some use, albeit of small benefit. As he was ascending the now familiar path, he looked around and spotted a fallen branch forking like a trident, picked it up and broke off the unnecessary length. Thus armed, he braved the slope to face his mission.

Covering his nose with his collar, Hiromasa approached the stinking pile of beans and started scraping it out of the small temple and down the steep slope. It seemed that Seimei had been right — this was going to take plenty of time.

“Well, so be it then,” he mused aloud, took a more comfortable grip on his improvised tool and soldiered on.

It did take him a few hours, although not quite as much time as he’d feared, and at the end he was rewarded with an extra prize. As he dug out the small temple’s altar, he knocked over a pretty wooden box with a tight lid. It turned out to contain a few plain rice cakes of the kind that don’t go bad for months. They must have been an offering to Oyamakui-kami before the whole red bean curfuffle. Hiromasa put the box away and finished his job by shaking the nearby trees to cover the bean mass with snow, pine needles and dead branches. Then he wiped the sweat from his forehead in a clumsy gesture, unused as he was to physical labour, picked up the box and went back to where he had left Seimei.

He found the man fast asleep, curled up on the fallen tree trunk. Smiling at the sight, Hiromasa crouched down at his side and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Wake up, love, it’s all done.”

Seimei whined quietly, as if complaining about being awakened, but then cracked his eyes open and stretched in a very fox-like fashion. Hiromasa chuckled and patted his back.

“Look what I’ve found. They seem to be still good. Do you think the god would mind?”

Seimei sat up sleepily and stared at his cheerful companion, and then at the box in his hand.

“Aren’t you angry with me?”

Hiromasa frowned.

“Why should I be?”

Seimei shrugged.

“You seemed angry when you left.”

Hiromasa thought back a bit.

“I wasn’t. Sorry if I said something harsh.”

Seimei shook his head and then looked up at Hiromasa hesitantly. He took a breath as if to say something, then thought better of it, then took another breath.

“Hold me?”

Hiromasa didn’t need to be told twice.

“Do you feel up to summoning the god?” Hiromasa asked after a while. The sun was slowly heading towards the horizon, and walking down the mountain in the dark didn’t seem like an exciting prospect.

“Yes,” Seimei sighed. “Although I won’t mind having a snack. I see you found some offerings.”

“Here. Do you think it’s all right to take them?”

“If I indeed manage to find him, Oyamakui-kami is going to owe me,” Seimei chuckled, biting into a cake. It was a bit dry on the outside, but still so good. “Don’t you want one?”

“I’ll be fine. You’re the one who needs strength,” Hiromasa reminded him.

Seimei appeared thoughtful and finished his lunch in silence. He looked serene, and it felt to Hiromasa like coming home after a journey through a thunderstorm. It seemed that things had finally settled between the two of them.

Using Hiromasa’s shoulders for support, Seimei hopped down from the trunk and shook out his robes, which still looked absolutely pristine and smooth. Anticipating Hiromasa’s next move, he took the man’s hand, earning a happy grin from his companion. Those little things mattered so much to Hiromasa. That thought led to a memory of a conversation they had never finished. Hiromasa needed to know where he stood with Seimei.

To Seimei it seemed that he was so obvious, that his craving for Hiromasa was too evident to be appropriate, and it left him feeling awkward most of the time. Yet Hiromasa wasn’t as observant, and although it often puzzled Seimei how one could not notice things that were staring one in the face, perhaps, even in this Hiromasa had to be pointed the right way. But how does one hint about such things without causing too much embarrassment to both parties?

“Are you all right, love?” came Hiromasa’s voice from where he was walking beside Seimei.

“Yes, why?” Seimei glanced up to see his lover’s concerned face.

“You looked upset just now.”

“I...” Seimei paused looking for a way to give voice to his feelings and finding himself completely mute. “I was thinking about our talk earlier...” He noticed Hiromasa’s face tensing up and pushed himself hard to say something reassuring, but everything seemed either too sappy or missing the point or simply rude, so in the end he just sighed. “I’m sorry, it must be so tedious, having me for a lover.”

Hiromasa gave an exasperated moan and sped up his pace, obviously trying to avoid the conversation. Seimei realised he’d said something wrong again and swore under his breath.

As the temple came into view, Seimei was impressed with the job Hiromasa had done on it. Of course, it was still rather messed up and smelly, but all the carved symbols necessary for the ritual were clearly visible and overall it looked almost presentable.

“You’ve gone all out on it,” he remarked with respect.

“It was something I could do for you,” Hiromasa shrugged.

Seimei nodded his thanks, again feeling vaguely guilty, and set to preparation for the ritual.

“You will need to step away a bit,” he told Hiromasa. “I’ll be drawing a circle through here. I will also ask you not to walk into it until I’m finished.”

“All right,” Hiromasa made a few steps back. “Will it take long?”

He must be tired , Seimei thought.  And hungry too; it’s unlikely that he’s eaten anything today either . Both thoughts did nothing but add to the weight of guilt on his heart.

“I hope not,” he said aloud. At least that was true, he really wasn’t feeling up to spending too much energy.

All was ready, and Seimei took a deep breath before plunging into the chant. He felt apprehensive about starting, like one does before diving into icy-cold water. Summoning a god was no easy job and required full concentration. One had to feel empowered, mighty enough to order a god around, and what Seimei was feeling was very far from that. In fact, most of all he wanted to hide under a bush and curl up on himself till late spring, when the warm sun would waken him, and perhaps Hiromasa would forget about his failures, or even about him altogether, and then life would go back to being the hollow routine it used to be before Hiromasa walked into his path.

However, that kind of thinking was doing nothing to improve his concentration. What could help, though, was meditating for a couple hours. But the sun was already rich yellow bordering on orange, and they still had to climb down the mountain, and Hiromasa was tired and hungry, and why on Earth had Seimei decided to deal with everything on the same day?

But going home now was a bad option. The water in the inn had turned bad, so the inn-keeper would want to close the establishment. Even if he were to be persuaded otherwise, there would be no food or bath. And then the next day they’d have to climb the mountain once again. Or, at least, Seimei would. After all, nothing was keeping Hiromasa here anymore. Perhaps he should send Hiromasa home and spend the night on the mountain, meditating. That way he could avoid showing any more weakness and making Hiromasa think he didn’t match up to his onmyouji fame.

He liked that last option, but the sceptic in him told him it wasn’t as simple as that. He tried to imagine turning around and telling Hiromasa to go home. What would the reaction be? Somehow, “Sure, love, see you in a couple days” didn’t seem a likely response. A hurt look and a barrage of questions sounded more like his lover. Hiromasa wouldn’t let Seimei stay the night alone on a mountain, even though they both knew there was no danger in it for the onmyouji. Hiromasa would see it as his own shortcoming, Seimei realised. A nuisance and a burden, wasn’t that what Hiromasa thought himself to be? Seimei failed to see how the man could possibly have formed such an image of himself over their joint adventures, but apparently Hiromasa was more ambitious than he would admit to. Perhaps he wouldn’t concentrate so much on Seimei being weak, instead focusing on himself being useful.

Before he could reconsider, Seimei turned around to face Hiromasa, who was crouching down a few paces away, eyeing the onmyouji with a worried look.

“I need your help,” Seimei admitted tightly.

The young noble sprang to his feet.

“Of course, what can I do?”

It was a difficult thing to ask for. It meant admitting to his professional incompetence. While he didn’t lose any sleep over being ill-adjusted socially, his skills as an onmyouji had always been a source of pride. But he’d already started it, so there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

“I’m not sure I have enough strength for this yet,” he said carefully, watching Hiromasa’s face for any sign of disappointment. As far as he could tell, it only showed concern. “I probably have just the right amount, but I’d rather err on the side of caution. So, I thought, perhaps I could ask you to lend me some.”

There, he said it. The world didn’t seem to be falling apart just yet.

“Absolutely, if only I can,” Hiromasa assured. “I didn’t realise I had any. Will you tell me how?”

“Just step inside the circle,” Seimei instructed, feeling a nervous aftershock of his overwhelming admission. “Everybody has some power, the skill is in directing it properly.”

Hiromasa carefully stepped over the line on the ground, making sure not to disturb it. Seimei turned away to face the temple again, suspecting that his face must look too pale even in the rosy glow of the dusk. “You will need to touch me skin to skin in any way,” he instructed.

He felt strong arms wrapping around his chest and thought he needed to clarify the instruction, but then Hiromasa’s lips came to rest on his nape.

“Would this be all right?” Hiromasa mumbled into his skin.

“Yes, quite,” Seimei replied, and suddenly felt just how much all right it was. Hiromasa didn’t just go through the motions when he agreed to help. He put his whole soul into it and made Seimei feel treasured, as if his plea for help were a gift, a permission to participate. Seimei instantly knew that he wasn’t found wanting, and that, in turn, did wonders to his confidence. He felt he could summon a thousand gods and then have enough power left to fly over the river even without Hiromasa’s contribution. But energy would be drawn from everyone inside the circle, so there was no choice.

Focusing on the sensation of those warm lips and finding his head blissfully empty of distracting thoughts, Seimei started the chant.

Hiromasa felt it start. It was an awkward sensation, like something was tugging at him, but not at any particular spot, rather, all over his body, and inside as well. Breathing became difficult, as if the air turned thicker. Now he had to take long, deep breaths if he were to keep standing. And that was another problem because his body felt awfully heavy. Opening his eyes was something way beyond his current capabilities.

It seemed to last forever and it wasn’t getting any easier. Fortunately, it wasn’t getting harder either, and Hiromasa supposed that meant his strength wasn’t running out, which was good. Yet, even at its current rate he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He supposed he could just stop touching Seimei if he felt he couldn’t breathe anymore, but he resolved to hang on till the last scrape of will. Seimei did say that Hiromasa’s participation was more of a precaution than necessity, but what if he was just trying to keep face? It would be so much like Seimei to pretend to be almighty when in reality he was exhausted and desperate. Hiromasa felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him, and breathing became slightly easier.

At last it was over. Hiromasa got so used to breathing with difficulty, he ended up swallowing excessive air and coughing it out. For that he had to break contact and got instantly worried that he was letting Seimei down, but then he felt Seimei relax and flex his back and knew it was safe.

“Oh finally!” roared an unfamiliar voice, and Hiromasa hastened to open his eyes.

The sight was quite peculiar. Sitting on the altar of the temple was a giant bearded macaque dressed in richly embroidered silks and a lacquered cap.

“Welcome home, my lord,” came Seimei’s honey baritone, and Hiromasa wanted to pinch him for using that tone with strangers again. He must have made some kind of sound because Seimei quickly glanced over his shoulder and squeezed Hiromasa’s arms with his fingers.

“That was one mighty distress!” informed the god indignantly. “I must say I am grateful to be back after all the wandering!”

“It was my pleasure,” Seimei offered sweetly.

“Of course it wasn’t,” drawled the god, emotions beginning to give way to reason. “I owe you now, don’t I? You seem familiar, though.”

“I am a son of Kuzunoha’s” replied Seimei evenly.

“Right,” the macaque puffed out. “Would there be any chance of returning the favour now?”

Seimei smiled knowingly.

“I’d rather save it for later, my lord. You must be tired.”

“Of course you would,” grumbled the god. “Never trust the onmyouji or the fox folk, not to mention a combination of the two. Well then, get out of here together with your sidekick, I’ve got this mess to clean out,” he gestured at the temple. “You’ll find a way to annoy me when you decide upon the method.”

“With your permission, my lord,” Seimei bowed slightly, never losing the smile. “Please excuse the rudeness of our departure.”

“Go, go,” the god waved a heavily decorated sleeve at them as they both bowed their farewell.

A few coils of the path down Seimei apparently felt far enough to talk without the god listening.

“I must apologise for Oyamakui-kami, he didn’t at all appreciate the effort you put into cleaning the temple,” he said cheerfully.

Hiromasa snorted.

“That’s no big deal compared to the effort it took me not to laugh out loud at his appearance.”

“Why, what did you expect him to look like?”

Hiromasa shrugged.

“I didn’t really think about it. But that monkey face with all those expensive robes, goodness,” he chuckled in spite of himself.

“You really should learn to anticipate such things,” Seimei said in mock-lecturing tone. “This being Arashiyama, he could only ever be a macaque.”

“Speaking of anticipation,” Hiromasa chimed in, “you could’ve mentioned that participating in a ritual was a bit difficult.”

Seimei looked surprised for a moment and then slightly guilty.

“Oh, I do apologise, I’ve completely forgotten it’s a novel experience for you. Are you very tired?”

“No, it’s fine now, but during your chanting... I could hardly breathe. Does it go away with practice?”

“Not really, you simply get used to it.”

“So you still feel like that every time you use your power? Even for something like levitating a scroll?”

“Yes,” Seimei shrugged. “I really don’t pay attention anymore.”

“I can’t imagine how you manage to have sex while supporting several shikigami...”

“Ah, that actually adds to the sensations somewhat,” Seimei purred in his loveliest voice.

Hiromasa looked at him accusingly. Really, this wasn’t either the time or the place. It was almost completely dark now, and they were still halfway down the mountain.

“I realised, of course, that the whole onmyoudou thing must be terribly difficult,” he said to bring them back to the initial subject. “But it turned out to be much worse than I expected.”

Seimei looked down, expression unreadable in the dark.

“I am sorry, I really shouldn’t have put you through this. I just thought-“

“Of  course you should have!” Hiromasa burst out incredulously. “That’s my whole point. I want to help more! I mean, if it’s just some household stuff, it’s your business, but when it’s something huge like today, please, let me help. You have no idea how awful I feel standing by when you do all the work, but now that I know how hard it is, I can’t imagine dallying around while you’re suffering like this!”

“Oh, come on, Hiromasa, I did mention that I’ve got used to it,” Seimei half-smiled in the dark.

“Please, love,” Hiromasa insisted. “ Please .”

Seimei was silent for a while, but finally succumbed.

“Only when it is something serious indeed,” he conceded.

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Hiromasa grinned and stumbled over a root. “Ouch! It’s too dark! What are you laughing at?”

“Sorry, not at you. But Hiromasa, you never cease to surprise me. Every time I think I know what you’re going to say or do, you come up with something else entirely!”

“I’m glad it amuses you,” Hiromasa chuckled. “Oh, look, it seems we’re there!”

Indeed, behind the last turn of the path the expanse of the river glittered in the starlight. Hiromasa could make out the dark shapes of fishermen’s huts on the other bank, but little else.

“They have all gone to sleep already,” he observed, bemused. “How are we going to- Seimei!”

The last part concerned the onmyouji kneeling at the edge of the water and waving a sleeve over the surface, which resulted in a path of shiny white ice appearing across the whole river.

“You’ve given me power, Hiromasa,” he commented lightly. “I have leftovers. Let’s go before it melts.”

And so they did. The ice wasn’t too slippery, but still walking on it was quite a task, and the exhaustion from the day began to take its toll, so by the time they got to the inn Hiromasa stumbled at almost every step and Seimei could barely keep his eyes open.

The inn-keeper thankfully was still awake and after some shouting and half-hearted threats came out to let them in, lighting the way with a small brazier.

“You have to agree this is a bit late, good lords,” he grumbled, leading them to their shared chamber. “Even the water has cleared while you were gone.”

Hiromasa giggled like a drunk, and Seimei joined in. Between the two of them there was nothing to convince the inn-keeper that they hadn’t been drinking all day and halfway through the night. At last, however, the sliding door closed behind his back, and they were warm and safe in the moderate comfort of the inn room.

“I haven’t even realized I was freezing,” Hiromasa half-said, half-yawned, pulling off his outer robes to allow the warmth to seep through faster.

“Aren’t you also hungry?” Seimei asked, sitting on the edge of his futon and rubbing a wet cloth over his face in a manner of washing.

“I’m not even sure anymore. I’ll eat tomorrow. Come here, love,” he patted the futon beside himself.

Seimei, who seemed to have fallen asleep with his face still in the cloth, rose and walked over to slip under Hiromasa’s arm. He lay there for a short while, listening to Hiromasa’s breath and waiting. When nothing happened, and he felt he couldn’t fight sleep anymore, he decided to ask.

“Would you mind too much if we didn’t have sex tonight?”

“Hmm?” came Hiromasa’s sleepy voice. “Sex? Tonight? Sorry, love, I’m only human.”

“Yes, I thought we were both a bit tired,” Seimei agreed. “So it’s all right then?”

Hiromasa made a noise and propped himself up on his elbow.

“Sorry, I must have been dreaming. What’s this about?”

“I’m saying, I’m not up to making love, that’s all,” Seimei repeated.

“Right. Neither am I. Is there a problem?”

“You called me to your bed. I assumed...”

In the quiet of the night he could almost hear Hiromasa’s mind making connections.

“You want to leave again!” he finally gasped.

“Trust me, I really don’t. I would give a lot to be able to stay. But it’s not going to end well.”

“Yes, of course, I forgot all about it, sorry,” mumbled his lover. “But you don’t have to leave the room, do you?”

“No, I’ll just move to the other futon,”

“All right, sorry again. Good night then.”

“Good night,” Seimei bent down to kiss him before crawling away and slipping under the cold quilts of the second bed.

Lying separately like that seemed odd and wrong, and tired as Hiromasa was, it kept bothering him. In the dim light of two braziers he could see Seimei blinking, apparently also still awake. Coming to a decision, Hiromasa pushed his futon across the room until it was just a pace away from Seimei’s.

“I really-” Seimei started saying, but Hiromasa hushed him down.

“Hand,” he demanded, reaching out with his own.

Seimei’s slender pale hand made its way from underneath the quilts and into Hiromasa’s, which firmly clasped it.

“Is this all right?” he asked to check, but Seimei was already giving a sigh of relief.

“Yes, quite. Good night.”

“Uhhuh,” he murmured, falling through into the dreamland.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry it took so long. I'm trying to figure out a way to stay creative through a 12-hour working day with no weekends. Thankfully, at this time things are looking brighter, so I hope to finish this story soon. There is one more chapter to come, one where the music score problem will finally be resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks to my beta, General_Zargon.

A few days later Hiromasa was returning from the palace after a particularly boring celebration dedicated to the birth of one of his colleague's first son. It was very late and the weather was so nasty that Hiromasa suspected it to be the work of some vengeful spirit. The wind wailed and moaned, and the ugly shadows of objects he couldn't identify seemed to be creeping right into his carriage. What little wine had been offered at the celebration was long gone, and Hiromasa was sober and scared. He had half a mind to go over to Seimei’s place, but they hadn't made an appointment, and anyway, it was much farther than home.

As it turned out, neither of those concerns had bothered Semei himself. At the gate of his own estate Hiromasa was greeted by a nervous retainer who explained that a guest had arrived for Hiromasa some hours prior and had been drinking in the reception room ever since.

Hiromasa hurried inside to be greeted by a burst of colour - Seimei, graciously half-lying on the cushions, dressed uncharacteristically brightly, both for this season and for Seimei in general.

“You must've sensed my thoughts at a distance,” Hiromasa beamed, letting himself land next to his lover. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now!”

“I just need to look at you once to know that,” Seimei smiled in a slightly patronising way. “And I didn't need to guess what your thoughts were, I simply felt this afternoon wasn't well suited for being alone.”

Hiromasa smiled tenderly and bent down to kiss him on the temple. This was as close as it would get to Seimei admitting that he’d been lonely.

“Besides,” Seimei continued, possibly sensing that he was being seen through, “I have a gift and a story to share.” With that, he produced a thick roll of scented lavender paper and gestured for Hiromasa to open and read it. The heavy smell assaulted Hiromasa’s senses and made his stomach turn, forcing him to cough.

“Ah, yes, I must apologise,” Seimei smiled ruefully, “Kouji tends to be overindulgent with perfumes.”

Hiromasa opened the roll and marveled at the poem, which was totally appropriate for the season and the subject matter while making no sense at all. He skipped over to the main text.

“My gracious lord,

while in your modesty you never sought the glory of the savior, this Kouji knows with great certainty that the mishaps here at Arashiyama did not resolve themselves in a natural way, nor were they settled by our relentless prayers. Whatever steps you took, as usual, led to re-establishing the peace and beauty of this world, as would be naturally expected from an ever-shining and darkness-dispelling pillar of light such as yourself.”

It went on in this fashion for a few more paragraphs, and Hiromasa wondered if Seimei had given him Kouji’s letter to inspire awe or just to laugh at the man's antics.

“Oh skip the accolades, or you'll finish tomorrow,” Seimei interrupted.

Hiromasa obediently scanned the letter to find where the actual content began.

“Since you left, some suspicious things started to happen in that hot spring inn, and I can't but suppose that only your blessed presence had kept them at bay.  It is now closed to visitors, however the noises coming from there at the most inappropriate times of day and night testify to a large number of guests who are quite keen on entertaining themselves, at times in dubious ways. The keeper won't talk about it though, but he keeps glancing over his shoulder or staring at things no one else can see. 

“I do hope that the magnanimous master Seimei will find an opportunity to pay us a visit again and relieve the man of his trouble before it spreads to the rest of us, humble slaves of fate.

“So, to reinforce my expression of gratitude for the earlier rescue as well as to substantiate my hopes of seeing master Seimei over here sooner, this letter is accompanied by last year's batch of what I remember to be master Seimei's favourite brew.”

Hiromasa looked up from the letter to meet Seimei's meaningful gaze. The onmyouji lifted an eyebrow and nodded to the left, where Hiromasa only now noticed several fine clay bottles with identical seals as well as a couple without a seal.

“You intend to finish it off all by yourself?” he enquired, rather confused that Seimei had been drinking without him.

“I wouldn't have brought them here if that were the case. You just took such a long time coming home that I couldn't stand it anymore. Now that you're finally here, I will be delighted for you to join me.”

“With great pleasure,” Hiromasa sighed, but instead of going to get a bottle, he lay down on his back and stretched out while breathing in Seimei's delicate perfume. He felt the cold and the fear of the night chased away from his body by his lover’s mere presence.

“Shall I pour for you?” Seimei asked, one corner of his mouth lifted in an ironic smile.

“If you don't mind,” Hiromasa grinned. “I had such a terrible evening, I need to keep looking at you in order to forget it.”

Seimei lifted two fingers and made one of the sealed bottles uncork itself and then pour into the cup.

“I can suggest a few activities that make memories fade much more effectively,” he murmured in that very voice Hiromasa adored the most.

Hiromasa watched the cup float towards him and wondered if Seimei was going to tip it right into his mouth or make it hang in the air until Hiromasa sat up and took it. He never found out because at that moment his secretary opened the door and stuck his head in the reception room, apparently with the intention to ask about something, but choked on his words, staring at the floating cup. Seimei looked up defiantly, and then quickly away, making the cup land next to Hiromasa’s shoulder.

“What is it, Yoshio?” Hiromasa sat up and picked up the cup, his robes obscuring Seimei's face.

“I deeply apologise, my lord! While you were gone, the Chancellor sent a messenger saying that tomorrow morning's meeting has to be moved to the afternoon. I decided it was important for you to know tonight.”

“You decided correctly. Thank you, Yoshio, you may go and rest.”

“With your lordship's permission,” Yoshio bowed and pulled his head out of the room, shutting the door behind himself.

“Sorry about that,” Seimei muttered, staring at the floor. “I didn't mean to scare your servant.”

“Yoshio is well aware that you're an onmyouji, he should've been expecting that.”

“You were aware too, back when we’d just met, and you hadn't expected anything.”

“And you quite enjoyed making fun of me for that, yet now you're bothered.”

“I don't want your people to gossip behind your back,” Seimei sighed.

“My people won't gossip; they care about me because I care about them. Come now, we were going to drink and forget about bothersome things,” he stroked the back of Seimei's neck.

“If you say so,” Seimei reluctantly agreed and levitated the bottle closer.

“So, what about the inn keeper?” Hiromasa suddenly remembered. “Do you think it's still Azuki-arai haunting him? Or the temple gods?”

“Oh no,” Seimei laughed. “ _ I _ am the one haunting him at the moment.”

“Huh?”

“Well, you see, some of my relatives on my mother's side have been asking me to recommend a nice place for them to have fun in winter, and I decided that our hospitable host wouldn't mind entertaining a dozen foxes for a few weeks.”

Hiromasa opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, lost for words, but then he was hit by a more specific concern.

“Will they even pay him?”

“It depends,” Seimei observed philosophically, downing another cup. “If he is clever enough to ask for a service, then yes, but any money will turn to clay shards the next day.”

“You really think he deserved it?” Hiromasa shook his head disbelievingly.

“He thought we were bothersome guests, well, it's time he learned what truly bothersome guests are like. Why, are you taking pity on him?” Seimei looked up curiously.

“My mother always says I need to show more character in matters like this,” Hiromasa admitted uneasily. “I suppose I should be learning a lesson from you right now.”

He gulped down his wine without really tasting it, and immediately regretted it  because that wine was a gift and an expensive one at that.

Seimei watched him carefully for a while, then filled their cups again.

“Do you really think I've gone too far?”

“I don't know,” Hiromasa shrugged, accepting his cup. “He caused you more trouble than me, so you have more reason…”

“I caused all of my trouble myself,” Seimei muttered into his wine.

Hiromasa felt that contradicting his lover now would only result in an argument, so he simply said, “I love you.”

Seimei gave him a long assessing look.

“Finish this cup, and I will kiss you,” he said finally.

They continued drinking in this fashion, punctuating toasts with intimacy, their kisses getting increasingly sloppier, and got through two and a half bottles before Hiromasa felt he'd had enough for one day.

“Really? Since when do you quit so soon?” Seimei laughed at him, pushing the heel of his palm into his cheek to support himself in a somewhat upright position.

“Since I don' 'ave your inh-human res-sistance to liquer,” Hiromasa mumbled drowsily and yawned. “Let's go to bed.”

“Oh and I thought you were going to have me here, so your servants can see, as you trust them so much, why not entertain them some more?”

“You're talking nonsense,” Hiromasa blinked sleepily. “I'll have you anywhere you like, but in the morning, since I don't have that silly meeting anyway. Come on.”

He didn't trust himself to stand up, so instead he grabbed Seimei by the armpits and started crawling backwards towards the bedroom, but Seimei jolted forward and got away.

“Let's at least finish this one,” Seimei shook the half-full bottle and fumbled with his cup.

Hiromasa had a vague feeling that something was off, but he was too drunk to fully comprehend it.

“You finish it if you want, I'm going to sleep. My room is second through here,” he instructed and got up shakily. The doorways were difficult to navigate, but he managed, and having reached his bedroll, he was out in no time.

He awoke with a start to a sensation of pain and pressure. Taking stock of his body, he realised that there was someone lying on top of him and digging their fingertips into his upper arms. He felt hot breath on his face; it smelled heavily of wine.

“Seimei?” he asked in a whizzy voice.

“I'm sorry, Hiromasa, I'm so sorry…” came a muffled whisper.

He felt Seimei's stomach, pressed into his own, contract violently as Seimei was taking deep ragged breaths.

“'bout what?”

“Those girls… poor girls… your women. And your feelings. I'm so sorry!”

Hiromasa shook his head and woke up completely.

“What women? What are you talking about?”

“You asked me some time ago,” Seimei started saying, but paused for breath as if talking was akin to running uphill. “If your luck with women was cursed.”

Hiromasa racked his brain and with some effort recalled indeed having this conversation with Seimei back before everything happened.

“Yes, and you said it wasn't.”

“No, it's just my- It's me who- I'm sorry…”

Hiromasa felt his lover needed all the help he could get to make it through this announcement, whatever it was, so he wrapped his arms tightly around Seimei and prompted him lightly.

“Love, what is it? What are you saying?”

Seimei took a few more laboured breaths, resting his forehead on Hiromasa’s collarbone, and then dug his fingers into Hiromasa's arms with yet more effort, as if afraid of being thrown away by his own words.

“It's my jealousy that jinxed them. I didn't mean to, but I can't help it, I can't stand it when someone's with you, I nee-” he broke off, out of breath, and then squeezed the rest out through gritted teeth, “I need you so much.”

Hiromasa stared into the darkness, his mind all over the place. All those women he had an appreciation for or spent a night with only to end up in grief over their unfortunate demise… that was all Seimei?

“It can’t- you couldn’t-” Hiromasa started, but broke off. Of course Seimei would never do something like that on purpose, and anyway, didn’t he say that he hadn’t meant to jinx anyone? He couldn’t help it, he was jealous. Seimei was jealous over him. Hiromasa gave a surprised giggle. Jealous! Over  _ him _ !

“Of all things!” he exclaimed, unable to get over the ridiculousness of his lover’s ideas. He sighed in fond exasperation. “Really, Seimei, how could you?”

There was no answer, and Seimei stayed very still on top of him, thankfully, not having any difficulty breathing anymore. He must have fallen asleep, Hiromasa realised. No wonder, having drunk so much. Hiromasa shook his head.

“What am I to do with you?” he wondered, his own eyelids growing heavy. He blinked once, then twice. It took some effort to open his eyes for the third time, and the room seemed lighter somehow.

Seimei hadn’t moved, and was puffing quietly into his chest. It was endearing and so gratifying, but also rather heavy and Hiromasa’s left arm had gone numb together with the shoulder. He really needed to turn over. He also regretfully remembered that Seimei had difficulty sharing a bed with another person, so it was probably better to move him, otherwise he could get upset upon waking up.

Reluctantly, Hiromasa shifted to the left and gradually eased out from under his lover. There was plenty of light penetrating the paper walls, but it was still clearly too early to get up, so, after some consideration and massaging his arm, Hiromasa wrapped himself in a spare quilt and lay across the head of the bedroll, curling slightly around Seimei. That way they could still be close, but Seimei shouldn’t feel trapped, he supposed.

Happy with his solution, he drifted back to sleep.

 

Seimei woke up to the quiet of a winter morning to find himself surrounded but not held by a sleeping Hiromasa. The position was odd, so he tried to remember how they ended up that way, but instead his own midnight confessions came to mind.

Horrified and disgusted with his own conduct, he sat up to put some distance between himself and Hiromasa. The despair he had felt during the night’s conversation hit home with full force.

_ “You couldn’t-” Hiromasa exclaimed disbelievingly, and then laughed sarcastically, apparently coming to realise how off his judgement of Seimei’s character had been. “Of all things… how could you!” Hiromasa said, and Seimei felt so ashamed he thought he could fall right through the floor if he wasn’t lying on top of Hiromasa. Who chose that moment to shake his head disapprovingly and wonder, “What am I to do?” _

_ Seimei was afraid to make a sound or even to take a breath. Any moment then Hiromasa could push him away and probably out of his life forever. Seimei couldn’t imagine how he was going to deal with it. However, nothing seemed to be happening, and Hiromasa’s arms were still wrapped around him, unmoving. He had fallen asleep, Seimei realised. Which meant he still had a night to spend with this man. Most likely, his last night. He probably wasn’t going to get any more intimacy, but at least he could commit to memory the sensation of touching Hiromasa, the scent of his skin, the rhythm of his heartbeat. _

_ He knew the morning would bring disaster, but he wasn’t up to fleeing now. He had had enough of running away. _

 

And so here the morning was, and Hiromasa was still there, although he had broken off the contact even if it made him curl up in an uncomfortable position across his own bed. He would have probably gone to another room, only perhaps there was no bedding and he wouldn’t have wanted to alert the servants, that’s how Hiromasa was.

Seimei wasn’t sure what to do. Leaving seemed to be the most reasonable choice because that would save both of them the embarrassment of breaking up, and his last memory of Hiromasa would be a peaceful one. However, he seemed unable to tear his gaze off his lover’s sleeping face, so young and pure. A stray lock of hair had escaped the bun and was hanging across Hiromasa’s nose, trembling under his breath.

Seimei bent forward and raised his hand to push the lock off Hiromasa’s face, but froze in indecision. He knew he shouldn’t do it. Hiromasa didn’t want to be touched by him anymore. He had lost any rights he had for this man. But his fingers were so close, and it was an insignificant thing, Hiromasa wouldn’t even know.

As was usually the case with him, desire won over reason, and his hand brushed the hair away before he even made a decision, and then caressed Hiromasa’s cheek, the skin so warm.

Hiromasa stirred and grunted. Seimei closed his eyes realising that he wasn’t going to escape a scene. He made sure to withdraw his hand and look uninterested.

“Morning,” Hiromasa mumbled and smiled, the shine of his eyes clearly brightening the room.

Seimei nodded, unsure of what kind of response was expected from him. Any moment now Hiromasa would remember the previous night, and then…

“Are you feeling all right?” Hiromasa sounded concerned. “I thought you were above hangovers.”

“I’m fine,” Seimei said, feeling like he was walking on a tightrope. “You?”

“Thirsty,” Hiromasa complained and chuckled. “It was really good wine, though.”

“I’ll get a servant to bring you some water,” Seimei moved to get up, but Hiromasa put a hand on his knee.

“Don’t. I’m not  _ that _ thirsty. Better come here.”

Seimei had hoped to escape after calling the servant. Hiromasa still wouldn’t remember the night’s events, and disaster was looming. He felt it was time to gather his courage and face the consequences of his own misconduct.

“How well do you remember last night?” he asked a rather confused looking Hiromasa.

The man frowned.

“We got very drunk, and then you came to talk to me about serious stuff,” he sighed. “Are you sure it was you though? I mean, the jinxing. How can you even tell, I mean, since it wasn’t on purpose?”

“It’s happened before,” Seimei offered flatly.

“There was someone else you cared about?” Hiromasa asked in a concerned voice.

“No,” Seimei shook his head absently. “But I jinx people if they are rude to me or make decisions that give me trouble. I can’t help it, my anger just spills over, and…”

“I won’t go anywhere near anyone else ever,” Hiromasa said sternly. “I only love you. So, if you keep that in mind at all times, do you think we can avoid hurting any more people?”

Seimei blinked.

“We?”

Suspicion crept into Hiromasa’s look.

“You haven’t been thinking of dumping me again, have you?”

Seimei quickly gave a small smile.

“No, of course not. I was simply worried that you’d be upset about this.”

“Of  _ course _ I’m upset! It’s sad, and I wish it didn’t have to happen like that, and you should've told me sooner. I mean,  _ much _ sooner. But to prevent any more tragedies like that, it makes sense for you to keep me close, doesn’t it?”

Seimei’s smile grew wider, and his eyes shone in an odd way.

“Definitely. My only point was, you said ‘we', but it's only my problem, you don't have to concern yourself with it.”

Hiromasa looked like he wanted to say a thousand things, most of them unpleasant,  but then something flashed in his eyes, like a sudden thought occurred to him.

“You seemed to have drunk a bit too much yesterday,” he observed.

Seimei’s smile disappeared and he looked away pointedly.

“The wine was good.”

“Yes, but, I mean… When you came to talk to me at night, I wasn’t sure if you were actually  _ going _ to say what you said. I mean, when I’m drunk, I always blurt out stuff that I would otherwise never say out loud, so I thought… Some things that you said… Maybe I wasn’t supposed to hear them.”

Seimei shook his head and then, after a moment’s hesitation, replied, even though words seemed to come to him with some difficulty.

“I got drunk specifically so I could say all that to you.”

Next thing he knew was that he was being hugged with such enthusiasm that his ribcage was moaning under pressure.

“Thank you,” Hiromasa murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“What for?” Seimei managed as the embrace relaxed a little.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through so much trouble to talk to me,” Hiromasa clarified and kissed the side of his neck. “But thank you for doing it still.” 

Seimei felt undeserving of both the gratitude and the compassion, so he pulled away reluctantly to meet Hiromasa’s alert stare.

“You are right, I should’ve done it much sooner,” he said, looking down. “But back then… it would’ve scared you away. I was selfish.”

Hiromasa considered that. Scared him away? What would it have been like if Seimei had told him right after Doson’s riot that any woman he fell in love with was doomed because Seimei himself had an interest for him?

“Not for long,” he finally concluded. “I’m a slow thinker, so it takes me time to figure out things that are happening to me. So I’d probably have taken a month or two to think, but I’d have come back eventually. After all, back then I was absolutely certain that I was nothing but a nuisance for you, and the idea that I mattered... It would’ve mattered. And it matters now,” he looked up at Seimei pointedly.

“Wasn’t it obvious?” Seimei breathed out with an air of exasperation.

“Erm, which part?” Hiroasa blinked in confusion.

“That you mattered to me, of course! Ever since you came to see me for the first time, I’ve never once turned you down when you wanted to visit. I invited you on every single investigation, even at the expense of the victims’ privacy. I’ve made more protective talismans for you alone in two years than for all my clients over my whole career! How could you not realise what was going on with me!?” Seimei huffed, colour rising to his cheeks.

Hiromasa looked at him long and hard.

“You know,” he said eventually, “you could’ve just said something and saved yourself a lot of trouble.”

“You know,” Seimei retorted in a quiet, irritated voice, “if I could  _ just say something _ in these kinds of situations, my whole life would’ve been very different.”

“Yes, I think I know,” Hiromasa smiled and raised a hand to stroke Seimei’s cheek. “And I love you.”

Seimei opened his mouth to try and say something, but wavered, looked away, tried again, bit his lip and shook his head.

Hiromasa decided to take mercy on him.

“Perhaps you could go get that servant with hot water now.”

His lover nodded mutely and all but ran out of the bedroom.

Hiromasa rolled over and stretched on the bed, thoughtful. He was rather certain of Seimei’s feelings now. Both yesterday’s and today’s conversations eased his worries about his own place in Seimei’s world. However, he was still unsure as to why Seimei had such a great difficulty talking about it. The man believed himself to be obvious, and yet couldn’t bring himself to push the words out of his mouth. 

Of course, he and Hiromasa were such drastically different people, they would probably never be able to understand each other’s thought process in all detail. Still, Hiromasa wondered if there was anything else that Seimei kept to himself, anything that scared him and made his lips so tight.

Seimei came back, having restored his emotional balance and heralding breakfast, which was brought in by Hiromasa’s plump, good-natured cook and her daughters.

“Good to see lord Hiromasa spending time at home,” she remarked, setting two ample bowls of rice on the fine lacquered tables. “’Tis better to receive guests at home than roam around in the frost.”

“You should consider lord Seimei more of a resident than a guest actually,” Hiromasa smiled at her patronizing tone. He knew she meant it from the bottom of her heart, so he didn’t mind her getting a little casual sometimes.

“Better still,” she beamed and bowed. “Please, enjoy yourselves plenty, good lords.”

Seimei watched her leave followed by a stream of brightly-dressed girls while Hiromasa was savouring the hot water, thankfully, unaffected by any gods and demons.

“It’s not so much about being pragmatically useful,” Seimei said suddenly making Hiromasa swallow loudly and pause before taking the next sip. “More like inspiration or, perhaps, the moral side of things.”

“What are you talking about?” Hiromasa wondered, blinking at his lover.

Seimei looked like he’d just noticed where he was.

“Oh, please, forgive me, I was continuing the conversation we started on the mountain. I never answered you back then.”

Hiromasa thought back.

“I don’t recall asking any questions, but please, continue.”

“You, eh... perhaps not asked, but informed me you weren’t certain as to your role in our joint endeavors,” Seimei said, rather formally, which probably meant the topic was difficult for him. “So, I thought I’d clarify. Like I said, while I do appreciate your courage and certain combat skills, most of all I value your guidance in decision-making. That is, you make me feel like I’m doing the right thing. That the people I’m helping actually deserve to be helped. That the effort is worth it. You believe in goodness at the core of any creature. I need you to share that belief with me.

“Isn’t it something any decent person should be capable of? I mean, believing that everyone deserves to be helped.”

Seimei chuckled bitterly.

“You’d be surprised.”

At Hiromasa’s astonished look he shrugged.

“Well, I don’t mean to say that you’re the only one ever, but of the few good people in this world, only you manage to make me happy with your very existence.”

A couple moments after he’d finished speaking, Seimei found himself pinned to the floor, his mouth being passionately invaded and his robes all but torn off his shoulders.

“Didn’t realise,” he panted as Hiromasa let him go to take a breath, “it’d have such an effect.”

“Do you mind?” Hiromasa paused in his attempts to unfasten Seimei’s sash.

Seimei seemed indecisive for a moment, then made as if to shake his head, but didn’t go through with it.

“I told you it’s all right if you don’t want to,” Hiromasa frowned.

“You seem to be quite excited,” Seimei pointed out, looking uncertain. 

“I’m excited almost all the time you’re around,” Hiromasa smiled and pulled back to kneel at Seimei’s side. “That doesn’t mean you have to force yourself.”

“I’m not forcing myself. But your cook will be upset if we let the breakfast go cold.”

He was still spread out on the floor, his robes in disarray, and Hiromasa was glad that the disadvantaged position didn’t seem to make him feel vulnerable, so he bent down once again and placed a careful kiss on the corner of Seimei’s mouth.

“I appreciate your concern,” he said quietly, helping Seimei sit up.

They ate in silence. Seimei looked distracted, and Hiromasa wanted to give him some space. After all, the admission his beloved had managed to make was to be rewarded with some peace. He started thinking about the meeting he was going to have in the afternoon and wondering what he was going to say to the Chancellor about the stupid music score, when Seimei apparently decided to have some small talk.

“Did you sleep well at night?” he asked, still looking distracted.

“Like a baby,” Hiromasa replied, puzzled.

“Oh, good. I was wondering, because we woke up in a strange position.”

“Yes, I moved because I thought you might get uncomfortable, you know, like at the inn.”

Seimei seemed to process it for a moment or two, and then gracefully and deliberately moved over to sit across from him, took the empty bowl from his hands to put it down and climbed his lap.

“I hope my reluctance earlier didn’t discourage you,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. “Right now you can do anything you want with me.”

Hiromasa made a small victorious noise and dug in.

It felt somehow different this time. Not that it was more passionate; the love they made was always much more intensive than anything Hiromasa had experienced before. But this time, rather than simply desired, he felt treasured. And he made sure to return the feeling a hundred times.

Seimei mewled and yipped, desperately trying to keep the level of noise down, and failing, as usual, clawing at Hiromasa’s bare chest. Hiromasa himself was on the edge of losing control, his breath reverberating through the paper walls.

“Ready?” he asked, and as Seimei gave an affirmative noise, sighed, “Let’s go together.”

They did, and Seimei bit his shoulder and groaned in a voice that was somehow both animal and human.

Hiromasa pulled out, but didn’t dislodge his lover right away, instead, covering him with a bright robe of those Seimei had worn the previous evening. Seimei’s face firmly planted against Hiromasa’s breastbone, he was tracing patterns on Hiromasa’s skin, completely relaxed after the intimacy.

Suddenly, his head came up, almost hitting Hiromasa in the nose.

“Wait, let me see,” he said to his confused noble.

He pushed the robe off Hiromasa’s shoulder to examine the fresh bitemark he couldn’t help but deposit on the man’s skin, but it didn’t look as bad as usual. No blood this time, just quickly fading dimples. Looking down on the chest, he didn’t find any blood there either, only bright pink lines that his nails had left.

“Looks like I’m fine,” Hiromasa concluded as Seimei finished his examination. “You were gentle this time. Perhaps, one day I’ll tame you.”

Seimei snorted, and his face looked odd, amused and resigned at the same time.

“Yes, I suppose you will,” he said and started adjusting his clothes. “We should probably start getting ready for going to the palace.”

Hiromasa felt even more acutely at that moment that Seimei was keeping something to himself, but the next phrase distracted him.

“We?” he echoed Seimei’s own question from before.

“Yes, I have an appointment there too, and you might want to join me, considering that the person I’m meeting is your sister’s prospective husband.”

Hiromasa blinked.

“Why are you meeting my sister’s suitor?”

“Because he requested my consultation as a competent onmyouji,” Seimei smiled devilishly.

Hiromasa’s eyebrows slid up.

“I do hope he’s not asking for a love spell?”

Seimei laughed.

“I wouldn’t be meeting him if that were the case. No, he seems to have come across some musical instrument possessed by a demon.”

“Oh good,” Hiromasa breathed out, and Seimei shook his head.

“I’ve rubbed on you too much if that kind of thing is ‘good’.”

“There’s no ‘too much’ of your rubbing on me, or against me, or in any other-”

“Oh you had to turn it that way!” Seimei laughed again and got up, giving Hiromasa a hand. “Come on, you need to look decent and authoritative.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of stories. I need some cheering here. I have the third part of this fanfic... sort of. When I say 'have', I mean that I wrote almost the whole thing, but it was something like 5 years ago, and I haven't looked at it since. And I never posted it because at the time the language there seemed constrained. So now I'm a bit scared to even open it.  
> The other thing with it is that the third part is seeeeriously angsty. It *does* have a happy ending, but for most of the story Hiromasa is alone and his life is hell. I hate writing angst, but unfortunately, the plot I have in mind only works that way, and I really want to give it a life, to put it out there, because it touches upon some themes that are, in my opinion, unavoidable for this fandom, because they are so tightly connected to the whole kitsune idea. Also, I've been dropping hints here and there through both existing parts that should lead to that third part eventually. Without it, some things will stay unclear.  
> So, the question is, would anyone actually want to read that? ^_^;


End file.
